Fire, Ice, Blood, and Power
by blackheart-whitenoise
Summary: Carlisle and Harry, thrown together by chance, must join forces to overcome new, terrible dangers. WARNING/ACHTUNG Babies! I have had been weeee bit naughty and kept certain characters alive, and they will crop up soon, so don't get mad :D
1. Of Ice

Carlisle trailed his finger along the thick, leather bound volumes surrounding him, occasionally retracing his sightlines to ensure he had not mistakenly overlooked the specific text he was seeking. His brilliant golden eyes finally came to rest upon a particularly scuffed tome, bound in a fading tanned leather cover. The frayed lettering curled in a gothic script Carlisle recognised well. With a fleeting smile, he pulled it delicately from the shelf, allowing the other books around it to cave in on themselves. He carefully displayed the first page and he felt deep within him a jolt of sadness. There, lovingly inscribed, was a dedication he had written to Esme, this being one of her many favourite books. _Wuthering Heights_, the violent love story of two souls entwined eternally. Carlisle leafed through the pages, every now and then sighing or chuckling with memories that, as he replayed them in his mind, were all he now possessed. Padding softly across the library, he gently placed the book within the open suitcase, patting it affectionately before returning to the shelves and continuing his perusal, occasionally finding within the mass of books single copies that, as he had done before, he placed with care in the suitcase. He would miss this library, with its antique smell and dusty hoards. Edward would not neglect it when he was gone, he was sure of it, and Bella would find countless hours of pleasure searching through the leather-bound adventures and reading them aloud to young Renesme.

Edward watched Carlisle, reading the man as clearly as the titles that engulfed him. The pain in Carlisle's face was clear and open; he was missing Esme more than he could ever say in words. Alice silently slid beside Edward and placed a hand calmly on his shoulder.

"He needs this time alone, Edward, he needs to think," she quietly said, not wishing to disturb Carlisle in his musing.

"I just can't bear to see him like this, he seems so…"

"I know," Alice added, shaking her head forlornly, "But he needs his space, he has a lot to think about".

Edward nodded in agreement; of course, he knew there was so much Carlisle was thinking about. He had been this way for such a long time, it pained all the Cullen's to see him so…absent. There was no other way of describing Carlisle these days except to call it an absence from the life he had been so desperately tried to obtain and protect. With Esme gone…

Edward shook with the thought, he still was trying to get used to Esme not being there with them; the mother they all so desperately loved, the wife Carlisle idolised. Esme was gone.

Carlisle, finishing the business of packing the books he would require for the journey, turned towards Edward and Alice, his lips breaking into a smile which did not reach is eyes.

"You have been there quite a while I expect".

Both nodded, their concern riddled across their angelic faces.

"Please, don't worry, I'm not going insane. I just need a bit of time away, that is all, think things through on my own. You both, all of you, have been excellent. I am proud of you all, but…"

"You have to do this, we know, and we respect your decision, don't we Edward?"

Alice nudged Edward sharply, who simply nodded silently and then swiftly turned to leave.

"Edward? Are you…"

"It is your decision, and I understand your reasons for going. Nevertheless, the risks you put yourself into, you could be in danger. If the Volturi…"

"Edward, I have had many months to think about my decision, and I am going to London. I just need to get my head together properly, and you know as well as I that I cannot do that in Forks. This," Carlisle added quickly before Edward could respond, "is not a topic of discussion or debate. My mind is set and I leave in less than four hours. It may take some time but I promise you I will come back very soon."

Edward studied Carlisle's face, his voice was nearly pleading. He did need this, thus Edward must push his feelings aside, for the love of Carlisle, and let him go.

"If it is what you think is best..."

"It is".

The topic was closed, and any further argument of the subject would simply aggravate the sensitivity of the whole scene. Edward crossed the gulf between he in the doorway and Carlisle in the centre of the library and pulled Carlisle into a bone-crushing hug, the heavy sadness chilling the already icy body of both vampires. Pulling away, he and Alice left as silently as they had arrived, leaving Carlisle once again alone with his thoughts, a place that even Carlisle was not sure he wanted to be.

Once all was packed and in the blackened car, Carlisle gave his briefest goodbyes to his children. Emmett and Jasper cleared their throats several times, their worry plain to see beneath their amazing beauty. Rosalie and Alice were openly sobbing, without the cascades of tears that would have followed them as humans, as Carlisle finally entered the driver's seat, turning the key and pulling out of the gravelled drive. With a final glance in the rear view mirror, Carlisle sighed deeply, looking out towards the bleak horizon. London would be in the darkest hours when he arrived, giving him enough time to find the house and settle before sunrise. He had chosen a small house near Richmond, close to the park and, more specifically, the Red Deer. Hunting would be no problem, and the drizzly autumn weather that seemed to perpetuate the British Isles provided a perfect level of concealment. It had been such a long time since he had been 'home'. The city was ever changing and, in Richmond, he was only a half hour away from the throng of the city centre. The house was situated among the A-lists who lived secretively on the hill, perfectly quiet and unquestioning. There would be no distractions as he thrashed out his pain.

The plane journey across the Atlantic seemed to pass by quickly and no sooner had he taken off was he settling onto the Heathrow tarmac. In his hand, he held the ancient copy of _Wuthering Heights_, unopened since he had taken it from his suitcase at the airport. He placed it carefully in the holdall he kept on the plane with him and, slinging the holdall over his shoulder, he departed the plane and searched the now quite empty car park outside for the right car. In a far corner sat the vehicle, its black tinted windows making it seem almost invisible in the dark. Emmett always had the best taste in cars, choosing for this adventure a beautiful silver Mercedes Benz; obviously, this would not be very conspicuous in a rich neighbourhood. Carlisle rolled his eyes and chuckled as he approached it. It was then that he smelt the strangest aroma. The warmth of magic enveloped him and he looked around cautiously to find the source of the smell. Far off, across the empty car park, sitting god-like astride a large motorcycle, sat a dark haired man. The man's eyes dazzled emerald green behind designer spectacles, his body moulded into a leather jacket and trouser. Carlisle examined the man, his hawk-like eyes seeing this strange smelling human as though he were directly in front of him. The man seemed young, early to mid twenties, with messy black hair from the bike helmet loosely held under his arm. Around the man's neck hung a peculiar pendant, a long emerald and silver serpent wrapped around a gold lion with a small, piercing ruby eye. Carlisle blinked in confusion, had he pendant just…

He watched as the man placed the helmet back on his head, clearly oblivious to the attention he was receiving, and took off at high speed on the motorbike, which seemed to occasionally cough and splutter in a disgruntled way. The image of the man was burned into Carlisle's mind, from the strength in the man's appearance to the strange scar just visible though the crumpled fringe, the shape of a lightening bolt, the colour of dried blood. The face had many nicks, cuts and scars but this did not diminish his beauty. Carlisle had never seen a human male so intriguingly beautiful. The strangest of all, something Carlisle could not shake from his memory, the snake and lion, so vivid to the point of life-like. Carlisle could have sworn, but could not quite comprehend, that it had moved of its own accord, as if it was battling with itself. Carlisle shook his head, there were only so many things that one could believe. Vampires, werewolves, angels and demons were everyday occurrences in his life. But magic?


	2. Of Fire

Chapter Two – Of Fire

The motorcycle rumbled between the man's muscular thighs, scarred from long past wars. Harry Potter was returning home after such a long time, returning to the world he had once longed to be forever a part. In this world, so many that he had loved and cared for had fallen, so many who if not for him would still be alive today. The image flashed behind his eyes, the lines of bodies facing skyward to the enchanted ceiling of the Great Hall at Hogwarts. Harry contained the profane sadness at the thought of friend's lost: Fred Weasley, Tonks and Remus, Sirius…

It still hurt Harry to think of his beloved godfather. He had escaped from Azkaban only to die fighting for Harry.

"You can't blame yourself, dear, blame _Him_, and all those…Deatheaters…"

Molly spoke between sobs as Harry, after living for five months in the comfortable bosom of the Weasley home, could not stay static. He had to regain his lost opportunities, see the world.

He had chosen to travel Muggle, backpack and cheap tickets, across the world. The first stop had been New Zealand, followed by the Outback and up through the Philippines (by broom, cheating but Harry had enjoyed the chance to fly free again, especially after the exhausting plane journey to Oz). From the Philippines Harry had travelled further north, working towards Russia through India and Mongolia. After Russia, he passed back through Europe on a whirlwind capital city and sights tour had left Harry breathlessly wheeling into Gard Du Nord for the final few weeks of his three year travels. The world had been an amazing journey, full of wonder, danger, enlightenment, and, most importantly, peace. Each country presented new and exciting culture, from the Aborigines of the Australian bush to the desert Nomads and gypsies of the Arabian deserts; he had learnt the tranquillity of life away from the public eye. As a wizard, he would always be 'The Boy Who Lived' or 'The Saviour', but as plain 'Harry', he was what he had always wanted to be. He was normal.

On arrival in Paris he had rang Hermione and Ron, congratulating them on their (eventual) engagement. Three years was definitely a long time for Hermione to wait for Ron to pluck up the courage to ask the all-important question. Harry had missed foppish best friend, Ron, and the effervescent Hermione, both so close to his own heart as any brother or sister could be. Finally, after many huffs and hints dropped by Hermione, Ron had romantically swept her off her feet and popped the question whilst they both were in their first years of Ministry work; Hermione worked now in the magical creature welfare sector, whilst Ron was in partnership with his father and brother, Percy. Harry had happily accepted the role of best man at the wedding, _'No one else I'd want more for the job, mate. Especially as George'd probably leave me in a field somewhere in Spain'_, Ron had said, the grin he was wearing audible over the phone. The wedding was scheduled for a month after Harry's return to London, clearly manipulated for his benefit but that, to Harry, was more flattering than annoying.

"So who are you going to bring with you, Harry? Any nice Italian Stallion's you've met recently?"

Hermione had giggled, ignoring the muffled cough from Ron. Clearly the "Ginny" debacle was not all forgiven and forgotten.

It had been three years since Harry and Ginny had separated, for good reasons that both agreed upon. In the end, it had been a compromise rather than a relationship. The romance had been ebbing away as both grew apart, Harry fighting the press rather than the Dark Lord and Ginny slowly drifting away from the lights of being 'The Girlfriend of the Boy Who Lived'. In those brief months, Ginny had grown closer to one of her best friends, Neville, as Harry grew closer to one of his worst enemies, Draco. As both recognised the signs they separated, still good friends rather than enemies. Neville and her were much…safer…compared to her and Harry. Most important of all these things, she seemed happier. In her last letter to Harry, she had expressed how happy she was. It had been delivered to the Pha Luang Ba Tua, a Buddhist temple in which Harry at the time had been welcomed. The owl, small and accident prone, had managed to upset the tigers by its inquisitive nature. Harry had taken countless photos of little Pig sitting patiently on the head of Storm, an enormous male tiger, who simply yawned and fell asleep. The letter read of how Ginny had found a love so deep, so fulfilling, that she could not bare to think of losing Neville. Harry smiled at the thought of Ginny finding love, she deserved it after all things she had been through, especially with Harry. The letter had made Harry sigh; he was now truly at peace in the knowledge that he had not hurt Ginny with the news that he was gay. She had been unsurprised, contrary to the image of a screaming banshee Harry had in his head, saying that she had had 'an inkling' and then bursting into streams of laughter. With the knowledge he had embraced the multifaceted areas of his psyche and, both internally and externally, was calm and, at last, peaceful.

Harry finally touched down in London, looking out of the window to the traditional drizzle and grey which normally surrounded the smoggy city. As he exited Heathrow, he felt the cool splashing against his dark sun-tanned skin, providing an ethereal embrace that was welcoming to the touch, nosing at the scar on his forehead and running through his hair onto his battered leather jacket. He looked around and spied the vehicle of choice, Sirius' motorcycle. Beside the machine was a small, wizened man, dressed from head to foot in a shocking shade of electric blue. The image screamed _wizard_, with the use of a back-turned baseball cap to aid the blending into the Muggle world. Genius.

"Mr Potter, sir, so very pleased to meet you sir! Your motorcycle, sir, with a note sir from the sender sir and this sir. Mr Hagrid said sir that you would need these sir for the bike gives off heat sir, sign here sir please sir."

The words were well rehearsed, spilling out over the excited tongue of the wizarding courier. Harry suppressed a laugh, signing the parchment that had been shoved under his nose. He eyed the document and took a biro form his pocket. Once signed, he slipped a few galleons into the wizard palm and watched as he disappeared into thin air. Harry let the laugh explode from inside him as he shrugged in the trousers over his jeans.

The letter from Hagrid has been cheerful enough, slowly growing soggier as the rain interrupted Harry's reading. He shoved it in his pocket, rolling his eyes from weather to dark machine before him. He climbed on, feeling the familiar seat cushioning in all the wrong places. Harry patted the handlebars affectionately and closed his eyes. He was home. As he allowed himself to calm and melt into the aura of the bike, he felt the chill of the day. It crept up his spin and spread eagled at his shoulder blades. As he let out a deep held breath, he felt another, deeper chill. This came from a specific direction unlike the overall cold of London. From across the empty expanse of the car park outside the now quiet terminal Harry saw the dazzling golden eyes starring at him, boring into his very soul. They eyes belonged to an equally stunning man whose golden hair whipped about him as if he were standing in the middle of a solitary moor in Yorkshire. Harry looked away quickly, the image too fantastic to behold. He felt that to stare for too long would be rude, and he huffed when he realised the man was still starring at him. The body was beautiful, beyond compare, Harry could easily call it statuesque without fear of sounding too clichéd. It was the eyes, however, that were scorched behind Harry's own, the golden shade of a wild lions in the dark. This creature was definitely not human, how could anything that amazing be anything but a magical beast. Only one sprung to Harry's mind, the word escaping his lips in the tiniest of whispers. _Vampire_. Harry could not bear to be near such beauty and, turning the key in the engine, he escaped the gaze into the now breaking dawn.


	3. Strange Coincidences

Author's Note:

I would like to let you all know that all these wonderful reviews are read, appreciated and loved. I always love a good ego boost 

BTW, I may accept a previous challenged made in a one-shot but I have plans for this story *evil grin*

Here goes chapter three duckies:

Chapter 3 - Strange Coincidence

The car rumbled into the gravelled driveway, its tyres gripping the wet pebbles. Pulling into the waiting garage, Carlisle took a moment to look over the outside of this gothic mansion in the middle of one of the richest areas in London. The pebbles led over a little bridge, which would bring one to the front door. The whole house was surrounded by a diverted stream, which seemed to appear from the depths of the hill, giving the effect of an island apart from the rest of the oppressive world. The gardens of the grounds stretched for a mile around, closed off by an intricate weaving of walls, climbing vines and hedgerows. There was a soft slope leading the foot to the back of the garden, where the plants had been allowed to run wild and free across the hill and into the park. Untamed trees hung their branches over the walls, tickled by the brambles at their roots, gnarling into the shape of creeping fingers in the winter air. It was as if the house had been uprooted from Carlisle's mind, an image of weathered and brutal outcrop, which housed, in Carlisle's mind at least, the beauty and terror of Wuthering Heights on the moors, battling against the winds of time and tide. Rosalie knew how to pick a good house.

Entering the house one was bombarded with light, dazzling chandeliers hanging from the main room, walls of a light cream colour. A complete contradiction to the outside, within was almost warm, for Carlisle anyway, and spacious. Large sofas sat around a large plasma screen television. Carlisle wandered from room to room, each room a different vibe than the last. Finally, he came to a halt outside a door within which was a distinct smell of aging leather. Carlisle smiled as he entered the enormous library. Books lined every wall, towering over his head into the darkness at the very top of the high ceiling. A ladder leading straight to the seat of heaven above wheeled around the room as Carlisle perused every title, tripping over the light fantastic of every foreign text, every classic, every original print of literature he could possibly possess. In the far corner was a large, leather armchair, above which perched an art deco lamp. 'Well done Edward', Carlisle thought lazily as he pulled a selection of books from the dizzy heights above and placed them carefully on the small table beside the armchair.

As he finished his personal tour of the mansion he sighed at the echoed loneliness, his eyes now a darker shade of gold. He would need to hunt soon; he was beginning to feel the thirst, but not yet. He chose a bedroom and started packing away his things, idly pondering over what would be going on back in Forks. He felt a twinge as he thought over what he left behind, Edward and his other children would be alone for a long time, especially without him. Not only had Esme gone, leaving Carlisle alone and distraught, but Bella and Renesmee had left Edward too. What would be the boys focus while all were away? Carlisle shook the swirling thoughts from his mind, he could not bear to think of the possibility of never seeing them all again. His ever-growing family had separated, but he could rest safe in the knowledge that some day, who knew when, they would all return together. As he settled into the smooth leather, he allowed his mind to wander ideally through the house, finding in this tranquillity to closest motion to sleep that his kind could create.

*

As if waking from a dream, Harry snapped up his head and gasped. The man had walked around the house, looking from room to room for something he did not seem to find. Looking for someone, he felt. There was a sadness so deep within him that Harry could barely hold in the tears he felt stinging behind his glasses. Hagrid and Olympe looked at him, worry riddled across their face.

" 'Arry, what is the matter? You seem agitated?"

Olympe, refilling his cup of tea as she spoke, patted his shoulder lovingly, looking into his face with her big, motherly eyes. Her baby bump seemed to make the harshness he had seen in her face after her work with the giants during the war seemed to have faded with the oncoming presence within her. Even the harsh cut across her cheek from where one of the giants who still aligned with Voldemort had scratched her across the face, seemed to have faded away from the pink blush of her skin. Her beaming smile shook Harry back into the present.

"Oh! Sorry Olympe, I for some reason must have fallen asleep. It's the jet lag. You were saying?"

" 'Lympe was just saying that, all things consid'rin', we'd like to call the baby 'Arry if it's a boy, if you're a'right with that, 'Arry?"

"Of course, I am deeply honoured, thank you!"

Harry got up and ran over to Hagrid, remembering the first embrace he and his half-giant friend had shared. Now, even though he was a grown man, he still could be enveloped in Hagrid's beard, a place that still felt safe to him.

Both Hagrid and Olympe sniffed loudly, their faces shining with happiness and relief.

On the drive back to Grimmauld Place, Harry readdressed the daydream earlier. The man from the airport was haunting his thoughts. Parking the motorcycle, he padded up to the front door, smelling the familiar nourishing smell of Kreacher's cooking. It had been a long time since he had enjoyed a home cooked wizarding meal. Not that he had hated the food abroad, but a glass of butterbeer and a slice of house elf cooking sounded amazing. The old house slid from its magical hiding place and settled, allowing Harry to step over the threshold and into his godfather's old house.

"Will the master be eating tonight? Kreacher has made his favourite," Kreacher beamed appealingly. He had certainly been awaiting his master's return veraciously, having been 'helping' the Weasley's for the past three years. He may have changed his opinion about the master's company for the sake of his master, and the master's friends who had kept the master alive were always high in Kreacher's esteem, but he did not like serving anyone except Master Harry. Now, on his return, his bliss was more than evident. The house was light and airy rather than dark and oppressive, the smell of home cooking and the warmth of a crackling fire being welcome homecoming gifts from the elf. Harry also knew this was in aid of someone else who could not be here. Kreacher knew of the house elf Dobby who Master Harry had cared so much for and, though his heart was not as great as Dobby's, Kreacher understood how a good house elf may affect his master and wished only to ease any pain for the master on his return to his old Master Sirius' house.

"Thank you Kreacher, I would love some food. And a glass of cold Butterbeer if there is any going?"

"Kreacher will bring the Master some refreshments!" With a pop Kreacher disapparated, leaving Harry in front of the roaring fire in a chair which had previously been the seat of Sirius Black. Harry starred for a long time into the flames, recounting his dream. The man was sitting, starring into space too. Strange coincidence that both were sitting the same way now. Harry shuddered. 'This cannot be a predatorily attachment, it is too sporadic'. Harry settled into the high back chair and nestled into the old Sirius smell, which, even now, ghosted the seat and wrapped him in a loving embrace.

_Now the man was on the move again, this time in a leafy part of a forest. The sun was occasionally glinting off his alabaster skin, sending shocking bursts of rainbow into the otherwise dark glade. The man, now almost bestial, was hunting for something in the wood. From far away the smell of fresh meat washed over from him and he crouched, preparing to pounce. Before he has time to spring on his kill there is a rumbling noise, suddenly the man is pushed to the ground, a strange creature sitting on his chest and growling. The man rolls out of the creatures paws and hisses viciously. His face is now in full vie and behind him the black gates of a park Harry can almost recognise, but not quite. The man was in London, in a park…_

_There is a scatter as a few Red Deer run across the path behind but the man seems not to notice. The sun is now fully hitting the man, who shines like a diamond in the sunlight, which seems to shatter like glass around his glorious face. The other creature steps out from the shadows, but only enough for its muzzle to be seen. They both prepare to attack, crouching again in line to spring at each other. The wolf lets out a blood-curdling howl…_


	4. Of Power

Author's Note:

I am so sorry if this chapter isn't very good, I think I got what I was trying to say into it  Hope you don't mind it 

X

*

The dark crimson banqueting hall glistened in the fluorescent light of a thousand suspended candles, each one hanging spectrally in mid air, casting long shadows across the gathering mass. The hall echoed with the primeval, angry screams of the congregation, all awaiting their chosen leader. The man in question glided to the head of the throng, his long silver hair cascading over his shoulders, accentuating the power in his sleek upper muscles. He stood on a prepared stage, his tall slender frame seeming to rise above the shifting crowd and establish instant authority. His silvery eyes swept the room calmly, the ancient portraits of family hanging gracefully against the bloody red walls. He tapped thrice upon the box and the room instantly fell to silence. This was his power, and he grinned menacingly at them.

"My dear and ever faithful friends, today we begin to enact the plan which has been our main focus for these long and stress filled years!"

He waited for a lull in the throng and, raising his voice ever so slightly, he continued:

"We have wished for this day since the time of the great disgrace…"

Once again, the baying crowd, their anger seeping from every pour like a bad smell, interrupted him. He scowled at the gathering, bringing them to a hiss.

"We have suffered! We have been exiled! Ostracised! Removed from all that we held dear to us! Our jobs! Our homes! Our FREEDOM'S!"

The crowd roared in agreement, their wild eyes searching to meet the man's in this dark place. He simply continued.

"We were hurled from our paradise! And for what?"

From the crowd came the choral response he was looking for. _Muggles!_

"Yesss friends! Those filthy Muggles have controlled us for far too long! They are the reason we shrink from the sun! It is our time and where are we? We are under the rock that _our own kind_ have thrown us under!"

The crowd, now angrier than ever, began to move and rock, as if under a sort of trance, all focussing on the same area of the room. There, in the darkness behind their spokesman, stood hooded, clocked figures. They had just appeared out of the dust, no one had seen them enter.

"Friends! Good and Noble Comrades! We must take back what is rightfully ours! Reclaim what was taken from us! We must regain our positions in society. It is the only way that we can begin our lives, the way they are meant to be lived! In a Muggle and Mudblood free world! Who is with me? Who wants our justice?"

Now the man's silvery grey eyes wheeled widely around the room taking in the crowd. They were starring beyond him to the figures behind him. 'Morons' he thought and turned to the hooded figures, holding out both arms to a particularly tall figure standing directly behind him.

"Friends! If we are to succeed in our mission, we must have help. We cannot do this alone. We are separated by our mortality, friends. So, I have asked for an alliance with an older magic. One that the dark lord _himself_ could not procure!"

Three of the hooded figures removed the caps and their eyes pierced the crowd. A cold shiver ran through the assembly, shock mingled with fear engulfed each member. Vampires. The room was so silent that a pin drop could be heard. The two flanked a single female, who looked up at Lucius, eyes ablaze.

"To you, Sir Malfoy, and your cause, my men and I are fully in agreement. We will follow you sir, until you are victorious."

Lucius reached for the cold hand and shivered at the icy chill. Still he kissed it, eyes always entranced by the beauty of the woman's face. Raven hair flowed in a long braid down to an hourglass waist. Full red lips parted slightly revealing perfectly set teeth, as white and brilliant as the ivory skin. The eyes were a piercing blue, but every now and then flashed a dazzling red that hypnotised the viewer. Elizabeta. Her outstanding beauty was beyond compare. Her scandalous birth and tendency to enjoy the human attention had cast her aside as a rebel from the ancient vampire family, the Volturi, and she had accepted this. Joining Lucius Malfoy's cause would be profitable for both parties. The Volturi were growing weaker, their respect being dashed to the winds with the rise of outlaws such as the Cullens and the Denali covens. 'Disgusting freaks', thought Elizabeta, and heard a chuckle from behind her. Brutus, her second in command, was not exactly clever, but he was an excellent fighter with a special talent for reading the minds of other non-human creatures. Always useful when fighting against other covens. Gregor, the other man flanking her, was also her mate. He was of a slender build, but his strength was incomparable, and his wit devilishly charming. At strategy, he had no better, and Elizabeta was proud to stand beside him.

Elizabeta's coven grew stronger by the minute, being organised in a militaristic fashion. It spanned across most of the British Isles now, only chosen from the select few who would be of use to her cause. Many recruits came from armies training for overseas missions. All who stood in that hall had heard of the terror that had been unleashed at a secret training facility in the muggle world. All knew that there would be nothing to stop the trouble moving inwards, towards home and the wizarding world, so having this dangerous creature and her coven on their side would intensify the strength of their cause. To be able to carry the great Dark Lord's will, they needed strength and power. Slowly a crashing roar echoed through the hall once more. All whooped and cheered at the masterful decision of their great leader, Lucius Malfoy, who had thought to incorporate two great strengths. Now they were impenetrable! Now they were invincible!

"WHAT NOW?"

A strong voice echoed through the hall. Lucius looked out and tried to pin name to voice.

"Now? Now we begin to move in. First, we show penitence, we show meekness and humiliation and regain a footing in the Ministry. Then, when the time is right, WE ATTACK!"

Roars, claps, cheers and cries at the promise of violence.

"YES, BUT WHY DON'T WE JUST ATTACK NOW? WE HAVE THE BLOODSU…."

"Because…" Lucius injected smoothly before offence to be taken, "We need to have power, and we need to show that we are truly sorry for our great mistakes. Do you understand? The Ministry will allow the ones of us who have the _influence_ to regain footings in the Ministry ladder. Others of us may try begging if it is necessary, pleading with that headmistress at Hogwarts to be heads in the parental council. Choose small jobs that seem to them to be simply handouts for us poor deluded souls. But, with that small influence, we will have enough to penetrate the inner sanctum."

"Leave the violence to usss," Elizabeta hissed, quiet and yet clearly audible above the throng.

Both Lucius and Elizabeta locked in a fiery stare and began to laugh as if some private joke had been shared, causing the mass hysteria to fall into mass laughter.

From the far corner of the hall, cowering in the darkness away from the eyes of the mob of angry wizards and witches and the hoard of bloodsucking vampires stood Narcissa Malfoy. Her long silvery hair, which she had held so dearly before the wars, was now a short bob cut, shaping her beautiful, stern face. She saw the looks her husband shared with the beast and shivered, her disgust riddled across her face. For the sake of her son, she had to do what she had planned. She had to be brave and carry out her task. She tried not to think of it around these vampires, no one could trust them. Who knew what they could do to a persons mind if they wanted to. She knew about that Jane from the Volturi, who could make you feel pain. She had overheard her husband and Elizabeta speak often before the plans for alliance were revealed to the Deatheater Council, tales of how Elizabeta planned on rising above the 'petty riff-raff' and establishing 'the old world'. Even if Lucius did not understand, Narcissa knew what Elizabeta meant. When the Muggles were only slaves of the vampires, it would be the wizards who would next fall. The world would plunge into the Dark Ages all over again. She could not allow that. For Draco's sake, she had to do it. She had to find the Potter boy, the Boy Who Lived, and tell the wizarding world what was going to happen.


	5. Meetings In The Dark

The heavy rain bulleted against the roof of the silver Mercedes as it slipped into the Soho parking space. As Carlisle switched off the engine he felt that same tugging in his ribcage he had outside of Heathrow. Inside, the hunter awakened and a low rumble rose in his throat. Something in him beckoned to his rational mind, clawing to be freed. Carlisle shook, gripping himself in a tight hug. As the shaking subsided, he released his arms to find deep cuts in his grey polo shirt. Carlisle breathed in deeply, deciding to postpone his trip into the West-End. As he reached for the key he heard a screaming, a high-pitched wail that seemed to be reverberating from every part of the car. It took moments to realise that the wail was inside his head, urging him to seek out that irresistible, magical essence. He could not fight it, he could not leave. He had to find that man, the green-eyed Adonis.

The scent caught on the whipping wind, swirling around Carlisle and driving him into the jaws of ecstasy. It enflamed and strengthen as he twisted through the dark alleyways and backstreets, guiding him in the dark. Leaving the busy streets of Central London behind him, Carlisle slipped into a winding alleyway between two grand Victorian theatres, his mind now humming with excitement as that striking aroma grew dangerously closer. The hunter's eyes gleamed in the dimly lit streetlamps that cast slim rays of light down the alley and out onto the street behind. Carlisle finally came to a stop in front of a large brick wall, some of the bricks missing in odd assorted places. _Beyond this wall_, hissed the hunter, _is what we seek._

In a clear leap, Carlisle had scaled the wall, one part of him screaming angrily at the other to end this mad escapade. However, the hunter was too strong and Carlisle had, in his weakness, completely resigned to the beast's thirsty instincts.

Crouched on the top of the wall, Carlisle scanned the immediate area. Below him stood two men, one strikingly beautiful with brilliant green eyes, and the other with deep grey eyes that looked like a storm over the sea. Carlisle listened silently to their conversation, making sure that he was not doing the annoying habit of breathing. The grey eyes were sheltered by a well-groomed length of blonde hair that swept past the man's well-defined shoulders, fighting against the pestering wind. Both were dangerously close to each other, their heartbeats abnormally fast. Carlisle's hunter was bewildered and intrigued by the two men's intimacy. The true Carlisle, however, broke free from the mental chains that had been suppressing him, noting the reasons for the increased heart rates, the shifting edginess of the blonde haired man, and the apparent nonchalance of the other, the hunter's Adonis.

"Listen, Potter, I just came to warn you…"

"So now it's 'Potter', Drake? What happened to Harry? Or even better, what happened to lov…"

"Shut up…Harry!"

A spitting sound accompanied the man's name that made Carlisle's conscience tittered. _Clearly history there, then_. Relieved that the hunter had finally been put to sleep with the sight of the green-eyed man, whose name was clearly 'Harry', Carlisle continued to listen to the conversation.

"I came to warn you, Harry. My Dad has been planning this alliance for a long time, and now he has finally secured it. Mum is furious, she's sure he has fallen for this _Elizabeta_, it's not fair! He just can't admit defeat and let it all go!"

The grey-eyed man tensed, his heart rate faltering, his fists clenching into tight balls.

"Draco, it will all be fine. Thank you for telling me all this, but what am I going to do about it? I'm not the chosen one anymore, now that Voldemort is gone."

Draco's voice dropped to a dangerous, paced whisper.

"Typical bloody Gryffindors, all size and no substance, always need a Slytherin to act as the brains!"

"Hey! I'll have you know Hermione…"

"Exception to every rule," Draco cut in without missing a beat.

Both men seemed to relax, then, and laughed.

"I thought we had left that all behind us at Hogwarts?"

"Some things never get left behind."

Draco and Harry both closed the inch gap between them, so close that Carlisle felt intrusive.

"No, Harry, I can't…"

Draco took a step back and folded his arms defensively.

"So, I should have asked this earlier really, are you really happy, Draco?"

Draco shuffled awkwardly, there had been no niceties in this brief meeting, and he had secretly been hoping that there would never be time.

"I am as happy as a man with a sadistic parent, a stigmatised name and a rubbish teaching job at Hogwarts can be really."

Harry nodded solemnly, looking into Draco's silvery eyes. He could see the tired red shots interrupting the wild tornado in their depths, now was not a time to rush Draco into doing something he really was not interested in.

"And you, Harry, are you finally at peace? Or are you still the Golden Gryffindor that you were when we were…"

Draco left the sentence to hang in the air between them. He knew all the right buttons to press with Harry to get the desired effects, he would not have changed so much over three years. Harry shrugged and both fell into peels of laughter again.

"Look, Draco, look at me! I'm a changed man! Much calmer than I was in Hogwarts. These three years, well they have been the best I have ever had in my life. If I could do it all again I would in a heartbeat. I learnt so much. Coming back here…well…it reminds me of why I left in the first place. I don't want to save everyone anymore! I shouldn't have to! I have done it so many times that I should be paid ten galleons a life. Draco…I missed out on so much during my years. Years I could have spent with Sirius, Remus, You…"

Both men now starred at each other, expectant, waiting to see who would speak first.

Draco cleared his throat after the prolonged silence became awkward once again.

"Harry, I am not your number one fan, and I am not a sycophant, as you know Malfoy's never praise anyone, not even their own family. But…and this is a big BUT, you are one of the most amazing and intriguing the people I have met, and I am happy that you had a good time on your travels. But the holiday is over and now its time you got back to work. We need you Harry, the world needs you, and we always will. You are the reason so many people turned round and said 'no' to the most powerful dark wizard of the twenty first century. You, for some reason I cannot fathom, _are_ the chosen one. Love put you there. Faith keeps you there. Only death will take you away from there. And even then you know as well as I you will be sung of years after your gone. You'll probably have a statue somewhere that I can throw rocks at when I'm old and past caring about you."

Harry's shocking heart rate rocked Carlisle, who swayed slightly on the wall. Returning to his balance, he watched as Harry pulled himself up straight and sniffed.

"Thank you Draco."

Harry held out his hand to shake, but was met with a tight embrace. Draco clung to Harry for dear life, taking in every inch of the man who so desperately held him. No matter what front he may be wearing, Draco knew how much Harry was aching. He felt it every time he walked into his father's house. The bravado you need to take on the world and its evils. Draco eased himself away, still holding Harry's forearms.

"Understand this Harry, I love you, but we can't be together. It isn't right for either of us. Now, pull yourself together Potter. You have a world that needs saving!"

Both men smiled warmly and within a second, Draco had disappeared with a loud pop. Harry stood in the alleyway, the gravity of what was before him hitting him hard in the chest. Carlisle, completely concealed on the wall, decided now was the time to make himself known. He silently slipped off the high wall, landing neatly on his feet behind Harry.

"Harry…"

Carlisle whispered in his ear, smelling the sweet aroma that permeated through Harry's skin.

"I think is about time that you and I met. My name is Carlisle Cullen and I suggest that, for your own safety, you do not run."


	6. Into the Night

Harry stood motionless as the strange and beautiful man slowly circled around to face him. Carlisle's movements were meticulously planned, every muscle aching to spring. To Harry, his body was perfect, flawless and statuesque, his skin as smooth as porcelain, but clearly not as easily breakable. The area that entranced Harry the most was the vampire's honey coloured eyes; those weary, aged eyes.

"Well, that was either the corniest introduction ever, or an excellent one. I am certainly intrigued as to which it would be."

Harry tried to sound nonchalant, but his nerves broke with every word, he could feel the vampire closing in, feel his cool skin so close to him. However, even Harry could see that there was a clear space, a gulf, between the two of them. He swallowed, not fooling anyone.

In the textbooks at Hogwarts, Vampire's were soulless creatures incapable of true emotional depth due to their overwhelming desire to hunt and kill for the blood they drank. Their eyes were black, their beauty devastating. Harry could not help with agreeing that Carlisle's beauty was beyond reproof, but the eyes. Harry could not agree with soulless simply because he could see, deep in the golden eyes, the faintest glimpse of a tangible human soul. Harry looked away after realising he was starring without blinking at the creature before him. The silence was broken when, in a voice like velvet, Carlisle spoke, barely in a whisper.

"I have been looking for you, Harry. Now that I have found you, the question I ask myself is… why? Why am I drawn to you, Harry Potter? What is it about you that makes me want to seek you out?"

The hunter snarled and curled his lips into a dangerous smile, only a hint of glistening white teeth beneath. Harry, for a reason he could not quite believe, bit the corner of his bottom lip, letting it slide between his teeth. Whatever reason it was that had brought them together, Harry hoped it was a good reason, for at that moment in time he felt truly awakened and alive, his blood running frantically round his body, making him burn with desire. Then he caught a whiff, a scent of the breeze like expensive, rare cologne. It was radiating from the man before him who, while Harry stood teasing his bottom lip, had stood still and examined every inch of Harry's body with his eyes.

"Perhaps it is my blood you thirst for?"

Carlisle looked taken aback, how did this man know he was a vampire. Maybe his eyes were giving him away, or perhaps this man was more than simply magical. Carlisle furrowed his brow. If this man was a wizard, then that meant there was still a thriving population somewhere. That meant also that the news that crossed the Atlantic about the freak weather and missing people had not been the coincidences Carlisle had imagined. He slipped silently into a memory of the family, Alice and Jasper sitting on the floor, Edward on the phone to Bella, Esme... Carlisle skipped over Esme's face, thinking about her made him ache with the time that passed in her absence. The family had been watching the news when a strange story had come on the screen, there had been strange mists and freak lightening storms, people going missing and horrible clips of the houses where men, women and children had being murdered in their beds mysteriously, no sign of breaking and entering or any sign of blood loss. Most of all, there were no fingerprints for the murders, no signs for the weather, no explanation for the strange mists. Pictures of London in thick clouds of fog sprung to mind, with small ant like people walking to work in the morning, scrunched into their coats to protect them from the cold.

Regaining composure Carlisle smiled at Harry.

"No, it isn't that."

Harry pulled a face, making Carlisle let out a crisp laugh. He began to walk slowly around Harry, circling like a hunter before they pounced on the prey.

The hunter's unflinching stare made Harry want to look away, but he knew if he did, he might lose the little power over the meeting that he possessed, giving himself fully to the vampire. He needed to keep on his toes, to be alert. One false move, one wrong muscle spasm, and he could fall into a trap he would never be able to escape. All Harry knew about the strange, beautiful man before him was that, if asked, he could never deny Carlisle.

"Well if it isn't my blood, or… well then, it must be something else…Something stronger…"

Harry now starred straight into the flashing, golden eyes of Carlisle, whose face was stoic. Clearly, Harry had simply confused the matter further.

"Well," Carlisle mused, a half-cocked smile spreading across his thin lips, "You must have been the brightest at your school, Captain Obvious."

Harry held back the rouge of embarrassment that flushed his cheeks; however, the vampire, whose lips broke to reveal a row of perfectly set white teeth, must have sensed the flutter in Harry's heart. Harry mischievously smiled back, what else could he do, there was no quick get away, and for some reason he did not feel disparating would do any good, this man knew his scent. Harry knew that, as a wizard, he could easily get away, but as an Englishman, he could only think of one thing to do.

"Well, Carlisle Cullen, I am pleased to meet you."

Harry held out his hand in a gesture, which made Carlisle's hunter tense, what was he doing?

"Shake hands?"

Carlisle broke free of the hunter for a moment and, taking Harry's hand, he firmly shook it, squeezing lightly on the soft, human flesh between his fingers. A handshake? What was going on here? Carlisle's conscience broke free from the hunter's struggle and began screaming for him to leave. Now. Before anything happened. What was Carlisle doing searching out this wizard in the middle of London? What was he doing away from the coven in the first place? He should be backing Forks waiting for Renesme, Esme and Bella to return! Before he could stop himself, a single word had escaped involuntarily from his lips, one he had been trying to suppress.

"Esme…" he whispered, looking into Harry's open green eyes. He could see her, her face, pale and warm, ethereal and enclosed behind Harry's eyes.

"Esme? Who is that?"

Harry looked confused and tried to release himself from the handshake but Carlisle was still gripping his hand, beginning the crush the brittle, human fingers in his immortal grasp. Harry yelped and suddenly Carlisle came to his senses, quickly dropping the hand from his.

Harry ignored the pain in his hand, the old carved wound stinging under the now healed skin. It had been a long time since Delores Umbridge's quill had carved the cryptic _I must not tell lies_ into the flesh there, he never forgot that night, the detention, the horridly pink office lined with little mewing portraits of kittens.

"I think we need to go somewhere a lot more private than here and talk, don't you?"

Both Harry and Carlisle could not quite fathom who had said it, but within moments Harry had followed Carlisle through the throng of people in Tottenham Court Road, past the shining Freddie Mercury, past the lights and glamour of London as night falls and the animals come out to play on the streets. Carlisle opened the door for Harry and then climbed in himself. Both sat quietly in the car and waited patiently for either to give direction to somewhere only they knew.

"My place or yours?"

Harry grinned, his impish eyes finally resting on Carlisle's face. This was going to be a brand new adventure. He definitely had not expected that when Draco had called this morning. Nevertheless, and Harry knew his all too well, whenever he took a chance on something as weird and dangerous and this, as getting into a car with a known killer, it seemed to always work itself out in the end. What could possibly go wrong?

Carlisle smiled, but did not look at Harry. His mind was still arguing with itself and, at times like these, it was important to block the madness out and try to focus on the matter at hand. Harry Potter, this alluring mortal, was calling for Carlisle's help and Carlisle, the incredible immortal, was aching to help him. There was only one place that Carlisle's free thinking mind could think of that would be safest for both men to be at this time of night. So, without answering Harry's stare, he clicked the key in the ignition and, with many expletives from the seat-beltless man beside him at the shock of speed, zoomed off into the night.


	7. A Long Night

Author's Note:

I am sorry this chapter is a bit fiddly and not brilliantly written 

For some reason these fiddly bits need to be fiddled with :D

No matter, on with the show….

*

"Is it true? Is she a descendent?"  
"For all our sakes, Renata my dear, I hope that she is not..."  
Chelsea pushed back against her armchairs leather and flung her legs forward, flying gracefully into an upright position.

Chelsea shifted and sighed, her boredom evident.

"I should have gone on a hunt earlier, I believe this will be a very long night!"  
Renata felt uneasy, looking again from each to each and then finally throwing a sceptical look at an already dazed Chelsea, lost in a world beyond the Volterra walls were she was hunting free. Continuing to stare through the clouds to the cold, silvery moon, she strained to sense Aro, but he was cold as stone under her fingertips, the first place she would usually sense his feelings. Her eyes shone in the darkness as she guiltily listened to Aro's conversation with Marcus, occasionally glancing in their direction and, on receiving a stern look from Aro, looking back at the path of the stars in the night's sky. Chelsea had been trying to concentrate on the conversation without appearing to be too involved, every now and then examining a book among the thousands of shelves in this ancient library and sidling close to where Aro and Marcus were sitting. Finally returning to Renata and sitting down loudly in a chair, Chelsea had regurgitated any information that she had over heard.

The Volterra library was bathed in the grey moon's long and creeping rays, the golden titles of the books glinting in the light. Caius' collections ran along every wall, crisscrossing the large and heavily sealed room. The shutters had been opened wide to allow as much natural light in as possible before the sun broke the night's silence. Large, leather padded seats were placed in groups of three or four here and there and a long table sat along the wall by the large oak door at the far end, on which stood a thousand or more candles, some as big as Church candles, others tiny tea lights floating on rose petalled water. The room smelt of dust, of decay, the smell of time forever slowly passing mixed with the ancient, metallic smell of blood. The four slender figures rose in unison, forming a flock formation and exiting silently from the enclosed solace of the library without a word.

As they departed, Aro turned his head sharply to Renata, who started from the sudden attention.

"Renata, inform the coven that I wish a meeting, _all_ must attend, is that understood?"

Renata simply nodded and swooped away, returning in equally quick time as she had left.

"They are formed in the hall, Aro, awaiting your further instruction."

Aro said nothing, but looked at Marius who merely nodded and quickened his pace to lead the group.

The light of the moon spread a ghost illumination through the hall, gleaming off the sallow skin and dark eyes of the congregation, dancing across the shining floors. Aro surveyed them all, taking in every face, mentally ticking off names.

"Where is Caius?"

"I am here!"

Caius had entered silently behind them, fresh from the feed.

"Good, then we shall begin. Tonight, we have been informed that rebels from the Romanian clan have apprehended members of the Cullen clan. This, if true, is an open call for war."

Caius then stood beside Aro, both looking sleek and powerful, with thin paper-white skin and large, black, shining eyes.

"We have all called the brothers to explain their clans open defiance of ancient law. They will be arriving shortly from Romania."

Aro acknowledged Caius and continued,

"Jane, you must travel to Forks and inform the Cullens of what is going on, I believe they are labouring under the misapprehension that Esme, The Mother and The Child are here in Volterra. They must be informed."

Jane simply nodded and, beckoning to two other vampires, swept from the room.

"We all must prepare for the Romanian clan. Go."

With these final words, all three elders exited the hall, leaving the assembly to mutter and organise. Renata stood at the door where Aro had departed, Chelsea close beside her.

"Aro did not say about the descendent…"

"Shush! I am sure there was good reason not to! This is a dangerous game she is playing. She is the last Draqul to walk the earth, if she wishes for war, then we are all in great danger!"

"The last…"

Renata slowly processed the information. Many decades before, the great war between the clan Draqul and the Volturi had been waged throughout Europe, the scale was immense, and many vampires fell. Some broke away from both families, living the Nomadic life that the Cullens had chosen. Others, like Sulpicia and Athenodora, had stayed, rising to the Elite. However all vampires of the Volturi were told from rebirth of the once all powerful who ruled over all vampires across the world. One vampire who changed the way that controlled all powers. Although the Volturi were great in number, if a living descendent survived, there would be a war to reinstate the ancient rule, and all creatures would be forced to obey they ancient order of the Dragon. Now Renata shivered, Aro was tense and she felt it keenly, but she had to remain where she was. There was much to discuss among the elders.

*

"Caius, share your thoughts…"

"I fear that it will not only be vampires who will fight in this war. We will need the child, much sooner than we expected. With Carlisle in England and the other Cullens in Forks there is a great gulf. The clan is broken by Esme's parting, that much is clear. They are defenceless and weak. I do not think the descendent knows of the power of the child. Let us hope that the ancient tales of a child of strength and will do not sway her."

Aro nodded, drawing himself to full height.

"Marius, what are your thoughts?"

Marius remained silently for a time, carefully arranging his answer.

"I believe that we should have paid attention sooner to this problem. I have always said the child should have been taken care of. I fear the worst. But there is more, which I wished to share with you both in private."

"We are here brother, what is it that you know?"

"I believe that Elizabeta, the descendent, has not only rallied a band of rebels and nomads together to create a force, but has also aligned herself with other magical beings. If she and they combine we will not stand a chance. These magical beings are fallen from the same tree as the Lord Voldemort. Aro, Caius, we swore we would not align ourselves with him once and in doing so we put our whole coven in danger. Now we are paying for that denial ten fold."

Caius grew angry, his sallow skin seemed to flash and his eyes glowered.

"What is the point Marius, what is this about?"

"I shall tell you, brother, be patient. From that world of magic there was a chosen one, as there now is in our world. A saviour, they called him, a small baby who ruined Voldemort. I have learnt that he was the one who finally vanquished him and has, since that time, been travelling across the world. Harry Potter. My intelligences have informed me that he is in grave danger…"

Marius seemed to force the last part,

"He has been found, and has connected, with a vampire. They were last seen in London."

"What! What vampire is this?"

Marius stared at Aro now, ignoring Caius' fury.

"The man is Carlisle Cullen. He was seen hunting, and what he was hunting was Harry Potter."

There was an acute silence, the room still as an icy lake. Aro and Caius looked at Marius in amazement.

"But Esme was Carlisle's mate, was she not? What would force such a radical change?"

Aro lent forward, clasping both hands together.

"Brothers, I do not know what is going on, but I ensure you, I will find out."


	8. Feels Like Home

The hours ticked on as Harry sat in the grand library of Carlisle's Wuthering Heights, his eyes trailing the ancient covers that lined each wall. Carlisle had left some time ago, the conversation they had shared ringing in his ears. They had discussed the past, both of which seemed so utterly different and yet strangely connected. Standing now, he walked slowly around the classical Victorian furnishings and admired the perfectly stored first editions. A copy of Shakespeare's folio sat on the oaken desk nearest to the now open window. Moonlight skirted around the edges, shining into the darkest corners but never seeming to reach the middle of the room, especially the spot where Carlisle had chosen to stand, rigid and still as stone in the dark. Harry tried to contemplate why he had opened up so to this strange, dangerous creature. Why had he chosen to reveal his innermost thoughts and feelings to such a man?

He hardly heard the door creaking as Carlisle re-entered, a tray lined with tea and biscuits in his hands. He placed them softly on the desk and chose a seat half bathed in light near the door, in clear view of Harry if Harry should turn around. Carlisle watched with intrigue as Harry read every cover, here and there chuckling at the titles that clearly invoked pleasant memories, reading aloud certain titles that seemed to take his interest. Every few moments he would stroke a title, intrigued, and then return to his meandering surveillance of the tomes. Carlisle noted his every movement, a half curved smile on his face as he watched the occasional swagger, the hip movements. Harry was dancing, swaying to a tune that Carlisle could not hear.

"I heard you come in, and the smell of tea was a dead give away. Didn't anyone ever tell you it is rude to stare?"

Harry did not attempt to turn and look at Carlisle, but he imagined the face, that angelic face with a devilish grin, floating golden hair and deep flashing eye, like Kubla Khan incarnate. With mirth in his voice, he recited the last few poet lines aloud:

"And all should cry, Beware ! Beware !  
His flashing eyes, his floating hair !  
Weave a circle round him thrice,  
And close your eyes with holy dread,  
For he on honey-dew hath fed,  
And drunk the milk of Paradise."

Carlisle merely chuckled and, within a breath, stood beside Harry, his long fingers making soft and subtle trails where Harry's eyes had only moments ago rested.

"Coleridge, an interesting man, somewhat gloomy at times but interesting nevertheless".

"Not as interesting as some, I should think…"

The words had escaped Harry's lips before he had chance to stop them, he mentally kicked himself for flirting with danger in this way, he should have known better. However, there was something, something deep within him, which yearned for Carlisle to be feeling one iota of the longing that Harry felt. There was a need for Carlisle to feel this craving just as much as he did.

"Yes, definitely not"

With that, Carlisle left the room once more, this time rather stiffly. Harry could not help but think of a particularly bad Muggle film he had seen during his 'vacation'. It had been a version of Bram Stoker's Dracula made in the 90s, and aside from a few good performances, the rest had been dire. The moment in which Dracula leaves Jonathan Harker to clear his face from shaving, the way the vampire disappeared, followed by his shadow, echoed in Harry's mind and, without thinking, he looked to see if a shadow was still with him in the room. Unlike most of Harry's strange fancies and visions however, this one did not prove to be true.

Throughout all of his travelling, his meetings with strange and wonderful creatures, occasionally magical but mostly rare and wonderful non-magical beings, Harry had never been more fascinated by such a beautiful being. All he had to work out was what was it that was drawing them both together. Was it purely animal magnetism? Carlisle had spoken of his true mate, the love of his life, Esme, and how he and her had held together an ever growing, 'vegetarian', family of wraiths and strays together through love and compassion, a trait not well none among the vampires that lurked in the books, both Muggle and magical. What was it, then, that was willing them to be together? Harry pondered, occasionally making clicking noises as he thought. Hermione would be able to help him with this. He would have to give her a call, if he ever got out of this place. On the other hand, perhaps, rather than escaping, just using the landline. For some reason, Harry felt compelled to stay in this mansion straight from a Gothic novel, this Wuthering Heights. To speak truthfully, Harry rather liked the dank brooding of the place; the ambience was amazingly like Grimmauld Place, his long lost home. Thinking of Sirius' old house made him shiver. The thought that Death Eaters had made it into their own personal bed and breakfast made him feel queasy, even though Professor McGonagall had assigned house elves, lead of course by Kreacher, to completely vacuum the place of any signs of disturbance other than those left by his beloved godfather Sirius and the original Order.

Harry sat in a large, warm armchair in a corner and let his mind wander well into the night. Carlisle did not make a reappearance for a few hours and Harry's mind wandered to where he could be. Could he have gone out? Was Harry now a prisoner in this large, dark house? His mind raced through so many unanswerable questions that Harry did not notice that he had drifted off into a restless sleep. He did not feel the draping of heavy, warm blankets over him, or hear Carlisle's low hum and he was gently tucked into the folds. What Harry did feel, though he could not place what it was, was the softest of icy touches that traced along the lightening bolt scar on his forehead. It burned, and the pain brought images of torment into his mind. It was the same burning sensation he had felt when connected to Voldemort; the cold, loveless caress of a deeper, mysterious magic. But this burn felt different. Although Harry did not recognise it at first, he fell into a gentle sleep at the thought of this vampire's gently burning touch feeling almost like home.


	9. The Swarm Descending

Just a brief forenote really: I am sorry this chapter is a bit rushed and a bit higgldy-piggldy, I hope you forgive me but I wanted to launch into the coming darkness and I felt that maybe I was taking to long to do so. Please don't hesitate to comment on it, give me tips and stuff, I will always appreciate. I love all the comments I have gotten already and although I am awful at replying I have read them all and am so touched you guys are enjoying the story. Ok I'll shut up now and take you all back to Carlisle and Harry in Wuthering Heights.

*****

Harry's eyes fluttered open, making him chortle at the voice of Ginny in his head; 'Sometimes Harry, I wonder how no one realised you were gay before'. He hoped that he had the desirable effect, the damsel waking from a beautiful dream, as it seemed to fit the mood of the last few hours. 'Correction' he thought, checking his pocket for his wand, watch and wallet, 'It has been about a day and a half now…'

He snuggled deeper into the warm blankets around him, feeling the tender wash of sleep flowing over his tired body. Then he heard a strange sound beyond his fleecy barricade. The noise was familiar, very familiar. The noise was definitely a voice, but not Carlisle's. This voice he would know even if he were blind. He peeked his head out from under the swathe of wool and cotton and looked cautiously around the room. Carlisle was there in the room with him, in his hand a small mobile phone resting gently. The voice on the other end was shouting very loudly, every now and then cursing at the 'Bloody Muggle Technology!' in the distance another voice was calmly soothing the first, louder voice.

"Ron, you just have to get used to using it, it really is fairly simple…"

"I don't have to get used to it, I could just send an owl or something, they always know where they are going. HARRY! HARRY! ARE. YOU. THERE? CAN. YOU. HEAR. ME?"

The speakerphone was screeching at the violent shouts, making the hairs on Harry's arms stick up violently through his shirt.

"Yes, Ron, I can hear you perfectly well, there is no need to shout!"

"Oh Harry! We have been so worried about you! We rang everyone we could think of when you did not come to the Burrow last night, but no one had seen you. Draco said he left you and then hung up the phone, Hagrid said…Oh Harry! You have to learn to answer your phone more often! It is very inconsiderate! And who was it who actually answered? You could have _told_ us you had…"

At that moment, Hermione cut off, spluttering a little at the realisation that her voice had a strange, ringing echo to it. Her voice now was crisp and very wary; Harry recognised the 'you are in for it when I next clap eyes on you, mate' voice, which was ever so slightly scary, even to an adult man.

"Harry, are we on speaker phone?"

At this point, Carlisle had broken into a full grin, trying to suppress the laughter churning in his stomach. Harry, on the other hand, had no such restraint. Howling with laughter, he took the phone carefully from Carlisle's hand and nodded, looking straight into the vampire's golden eyes. For a moment he was transfixed, the eyes had the slightest twinge of black, riveting through the amazing golden. The calling on the phone commenced as Ron tried to make contact and Harry instinctively moved his fingers over the buttons, turning off the answer phone and placing the mobile to his ear.

For the next few minutes, there was mainly silence as Harry listened to Hermione's tirade about the privacy of some being less important to the privacy of others. He now held back the laughter he still felt; imagining how much worse it would be if he let out the slightest sign of amusement. Ron's voice was the easiest to hear for Carlisle, who had conveniently pretended to have his eyes on a large volume of some sort whilst humming a few bars of Rachmaninov, ensuring that the phone call was as private as possible, or at least attempting to. As Harry finally began to speak, he lowered his voice to barely a whisper, explaining simply that he was safe, happy and in good hands. Hermione sounded disgruntled over the phone, but Harry shrugged and repeated his safety.

"Ok Harry, but at the first sign of trouble just apparate out, alright. We'll call you later, love you"

"Ok Hermione, BYE. RON."

As Harry hung up, he heard the loud curse from Ron, as did Carlisle, whose smile curved the stone contours of his face. Harry starred for the devastating beauty for a moment, his heart starting to skip beats as his mind raced through the most indecent of thoughts.

"We need to talk, Harry, now."

Harry simply nodded and moved, deliberately slowly, out of the room to stand in the fully lit kitchen.

"Ok, we have been dancing around this for a long time, why am I here Carlisle, what is it you want?"

Harry leaned against the pristine diner top, its black marble chilled his spine and licked the chill around him.

"I did some reading while you slept, and made a couple of phone calls. From what I have come to understand, although I love Esme like an extension of my own flesh, either there is something from her that I am not quite receiving, or…"

Carlisle let the first idea relax in the air as he slinked towards Harry, his solid muscles rippling under his black roll neck jumper. Harry rummaged through his mind, had Carlisle changed clothes since he had been asleep?

"Or?"

Harry couldn't help but feel intimidated as the space between he and Carlisle lessened with every stride. He felt the pangs of sexual longing, the breaking yearning that clearly was etching his cheeks and making Carlisle's smile fall into that dangerously sexy grin. Harry felt his dependence on the marble top becoming stronger and stronger as his knees buckled. He could smell the intoxicating breath of the vampire and his desire began to swell.

"Or maybe there is something you need from me. My daughter, Alice, can't seem to see what is coming, it must be the magic that is surrounding you blocking her visions. I hate to alarm you, but she is coming here."

Harry fell headlong into reality. More vampires?

"She says she may need to be closer to you to sense what is going on, and she is bringing Edward with her."

Harry swooned mentally, but stood firm against the marble top. He had completely lost what was happening. Now there were to be three vampires surrounding him, what was this? Maybe he should just apparate. Right now. This second.

As he thought of disappearing he realised he couldn't do it, he was stuck. He could not leave this mysterious stranger.

"Ok, so what happens when the swarm descends?"

Carlisle chuckled, his eyes never leaving Harry's.

"When my family get here, we will discuss further what is to be done, until then I suggest you relax. You may do yourself some harm with all that adrenaline pumping."

Harry looked at him, confused.

"I'm a vampire, I can _smell _you."

Carlisle was so close to Harry that there was no way on earth he could not feel Harry's raising to the occasion, the adrenaline pumping in his veins. To make matters worse, he seemed to be openly flirting with this scared creature before him. He felt the thrill of this very dangerous ride and could not help but rock with it. In the pit of his stomach, he felt the thirst, the need to bite hard on that strong, tanned neck of Harry's. But in the back of his mind he could see her there, her long hair curled up against her shoulders. His Esme. With a deep breathe he flew backwards, away from Harry and the temptation, and returned to the quiet of the study, leaving Harry in the kitchen alone. He shut the door softly, to avoid hurting Harry's feelings, and out of habit he inhaled, letting the air churn and escape. What was going on?

*

"So this is the plan? Are you sure it will work?"

Lucius looked at Elizabeta, whose eyes shone red as the dawn and hair swayed like Medusa in the breeze.

"That question does not need to be asked. It will work."

Elizabeta looked up at the large dark windows of the house, her expression unreadable in the growing moonlight. This plan would work, it would be like holding a carrot in front of a mule. She turned away from Lucius and glanced at the three death eaters behind her. Nodding once, she raised her arm and let out a high, feline cry. The Death eaters raised their wands and the air exploded. The light of the moon seemed dim compared to the crackling red of the magic that drenched the evening sky.

From inside the house, lights flicked on, a wizened couple came to the doorway, their hands clasped tightly together.

"We need your house, and you are going to give it to us, or you will be killed."

"You!" The old man spat out, his red eyes burning into Elizabeta's face. The pure hatred etched his every feature as he stood straight.

"You cannot have this house, it is Aro's and you know it. We will not let you pass."

"Back off out of our way, old man".

Lucius now stood, wand pointing at the old vampire. Elizabeta looked at him angrily, but the look was lost behind Lucius' masculine pride.

The old woman simply laughed and straightened up herself, her silver hair falling around her peeked cheeks, hard as granite.

"Boy, put down your foolish twig, the real magic is talking to you."

Elizabeta was beside the elders within a blink. She whispered in the male vampires ear and his face fell into a stony sadness that Lucius had never seen on any creature before. He turned to look at Elizabeta, his voice seeming quieter, more distant.

"You will fall, you may have the blood of Draqul in your veins but you are _nothing _like him! Aro will crush you. And you…" The female turned to look at Lucius, her eyes glazed with a strange mist. Lucius shuddered as she began to speak, her voice gravely, as if she were possessed by an unseen devil.

"You will not survive your quest. The darkness is coming, something terrible will rise and you shall fall under it's great power. The time is here, the darkness surrounds us! It will engulf us all!"

Lucius was terrified, he felt his knees falter under him as the terrible images of death swirled around him. Cries and ancient rumbles filled his mind as smoky images danced before him, enveloping him in a magic too powerful for him. He felt the pressing presence of the Dark Lord beside him, burning his flesh.

"What is going on? Elizabeta? Where are you?"

"Stop this! We have not come for your babbling! We will have this house, and Aro will now that we are not to be meddled with! You will not live to see the turning of this puny, fleshling-riddled world disintegrate into the new dawn that will rise with us! Draqul est continanta! Mera est espasia!"

Lucius was pulled from the flames of his mind but strong and icy fingers, his eyes fell upon not Elizabeta's stunning face but Narcissa's, her eyes pale blue and frosty as the morning rain against his sweat beaded face.

"Get off of me woman! What are you thinking of! Get away from me!"

He yanked away from her hold and looked on as a swarm of vampires tore apart the old couple before him, the power and strength of his army laying waste to the petty weak.

"Lucius, come in. Welcome to our new home."

Elizabeta beamed like a child on Christmas day and Lucius was only too happy to leave Narcissa in the mud.

Narcissa watched as her husband strode confidently towards the demon at the door.

'Lucius Malfoy, by all the magic in our world and the next, you will pay for the injustice you have thrown at my feet'. Narcissa growled and pulled herself from the ground, apparating in a crack that shook the earth around her. This was the last time she would be made a fool of.

From the darkness, vampires swarmed the couple, clawing and biting. Ripping the flesh from their bones. The couple seemed to be resigned to their fate, their dark eyes ripped from them


	10. In A Wink

Narcissa looked around her, making sure she had not been followed by any of those filthy bloodsuckers. Preparing herself, she entered Grimmauld Place, its dark foreboding looming before her like some terrible phantom. She knew that it would be warded against the very _suggestion_ that her DNA had entered it, so she threw up a shielding charm and clicked open the always unlocked front door. It was so quiet, aside from the scurry of furry intruders. The walls seemed to stretch out and curve into sinister dark corners, leaving room for the monsters of the imagination to leer through the black. Narcissa coughed and pulled herself up taller, her long platinum blonde hair falling down her back and curling around her hips. This would have to work, she prayed it would. She coughed again and into the dark commanded;

"Dobby!"

There was no resounding crack, no meek serving elf before her. So she tried again;

"Dobby! Please! I know you can hear me! I was your mistress once!"

Still no sounds came from the house. Narcissa felt her shoulders slouch, she had no other plans to find Harry Potter's whereabouts. And she needed him. Draco did not know where he was, and although she highly disapproved of the acquaintance, deep down she was happy that her son had joined the winning side during the wars, and also found someone to help him where she could not. Draco was a strong boy, but he needed someone there for him, and solely him, taking care and- dare she say it – loving him for who he was and not his titles. Narcissa had never had that love and trust, not even with Lucius, and now the fruits of her meagre existence were finally rotten to the very core. She felt nothing for Lucius now, the loving she thought she had felt turning into a bubbling cauldron of pure hatred. How dare he embarrass her before the others? Throw her to the ground like some despondent pup! She was Narcissa Black, from the ancient family of Black. She was no man's lapdog!

While her thoughts ran through her mind of the life she had led with Lucius, the crack of a house elf was heard, far off to her, like in another world entirely. She felt a tug on her robes and looked down to where a small, fat, female house elf stood. The eyes were huge and rimmed red from crying. Narcissa envied house elves freeness of emotion, the way they could, if they chose to, cry forever and always feel the pain of loss. The elf bowed ungracefully and looked even sadder than when it had first appeared.

"Mrs, I am Winky, Dobby cannot come any mores Mrs, because Dobby is…Dobby is…"

Winky let out a high, screeching wail and fell to the ground her face buried in the musty carpet. Weeping loud, unrepressed tears, she continued.

"Dobby is dead, Mrs. The Miss Bellatrix killed Dobby years and years ago. But Winky still cries for Dobby Mrs, Winky loved Dobby! Dobby was kind to Winky after the World Cup, Dobby took Winky to Hogwarts and gave Winky a job. And Winky never had a chance to tell Dobby how thankful Winky was for freedom, because Winky never expected…"

Her tears were making a wet patch in the carpet, and Narcissa could not stop them. She felt her heart bleeding for this poor wretched creature at her feet and, without thinking, knelt down and held the frightened little elf in a tight and warm embrace, as if she were a child who had scrapped her knee and needed a mothers love to heal the wound. The noise died down and Winky realised that she was being comforted by a known witch, one who had been on the bad side when the fighting came. But Winky simply hugged back, feeling, as all house elves do, that this witch needed support as much as she did.

"Winky will do for the Mrs whatever she asks, free of charge! You are a good Mrs, and kind, like the saviour himself!"

She smiled a wet and dribbling smile and Narcissa wiped her tears with a corner of her robe. She had never had this kind of connection with Draco, which made her displays of motherly warmth something very rare to her. She savoured every moment of it, even if it was for a servant.

"I need you, Winky, to tell me where Harry Potter is. I need to find him, it is very important. There are things afoot that need careful attention."

Winky looked sceptical, so Narcissa quickly added,

"I am not going to harm him, or lead him to any more bad people, but there are things he needs to know, and quickly."

Winky furrowed her brow and looked deep into Narcissa's pleading eyes, and Narcissa felt an icy shudder at the realisation that this elf was reading her soul. She did not falter, this needed to be done.

"Winky believes the Mrs. Winky will take the Mrs to Harry Potter, so that the kind Mrs does not get hurt. Harry Potter is with something that Mrs will not…"

Winky stopped, as if she had given away too much, and slapped herself with a harsh thud across the face.

"Winky will go now."

Winky's pudgy hand grabbed Narcissa's and in a crack like thunder they were gone.

Within moments, Narcissa was standing in a room bathed in light. There was no dirt, no dust in this shining room. As her eyes adjusted to this new source of light, she saw that she was standing in a kitchen, with cold black marble tops and shining metal sinks. It looked like a Muggle kitchen, but there was something about the smell of the place that reminded her of something. Vampire. But not quite as strong as the smell from the coven her husband had aligned with. There was something, almost warm, in the air. She could hear in the distance the wild chatter of men. Every few moments a high pitched female voice, almost like flowing silk, would pipe up and speak. Then the voices would once again become deep and male. Her ears tuned into the conversation just as the female spoke.

"I think that we are not alone, Carlisle, someone is in the kitchen."

There was the sound of wind whistling past Narcissa and she saw before her a man made of the purest alabaster, his eyes golden as a lions. Within a breath there was another man beside him, this time with dark hair that framed a perfect face, his eyes also the deep gold of the previous man. Lastly, at her shoulder, appeared a small pixie faced angel with very short hair, which seemed to bounce off her head. Her eyes shone with wonder and mirth, unusual for a vampire. That is what they certainly were, all of them. Finally, a hand touched her shoulder, but it was not the icy hand she expected. It was warm, human and soft.

"Narcissa? We weren't expecting it to be you…"

The voice was so familiar, she would know it blind. Harry Potter.

Winky coughed and Narcissa snapped into full focus, her senses tingling.

"Winky, thank you, you may go back to Hogwarts, if you like."

"Yeah, thank you Winky."

The house elf looked around the room at the three vampires and the saviour. If Harry Potter was here, and was safe, that was good enough for her. The Mrs. would be fine here with them. Winky nodded and in a crack she was gone, leaving Narcissa ramrod straight between power and ice.

"I believe you have news for us?" Came the smooth and dangerous voice of the first vampire.


	11. Beauty and the Beasts

Authors Warning:

I love the person to which something is going to happen in this chapter. Love them to pieces. But for the growth of the story the something that is going to happen is going to happen. Please don't hate me and be safe in the knowledge that I have a plan. Ok?

***

_Oh Edward, please! Please here me! We need you all now, we've been kidnapped. Things are far from what they seemed. Please Edward, hear us now._

Esme turned to Bella, her eyes dark and hungry.

"Don't worry, Bella, we will get out of here. Soon. How is Renesmee's fever?"

"It's calming down now. I don't know why she is feverish, I didn't even know she could get that feverish…"

Bella's sleepless eyes held dark purple rings beneath them, her lank hair spraying across her creased forehead as Renesmee nestled deeper into her body. Her child whelped helplessly as nightmares fogged her dreams, and Esme leaned over and stroked the loose strands of hair from her face.

"Surely, Jake would be able to sense that Nessie was hurt and in trouble…"

"I have no doubt that he can, but with the help of wizards, who knows what he is feeling right now? He could be….Oh I am so sorry dear, I suppose I am so pessimistic because I am so dreadfully hungry."

Esme slumped back against the wall, cold stone against cold stone. Her mind ran through memories of happier times. Her children and Carlisle rose like phantoms before her never sleeping eyes.

"Esme?"

"Yes Bella, dear? What is the matter?"

"Do you think…"

Bella took a deep breath and let out the air slowly.

"Do you think this has something to do with…"

She looked at the babe in her arms and then looked at the large barbed door before them.

"I do not wish to cause alarm but I would assume so, my dear."

Bella held her child tighter, and Renesmee gave a sharp cough.

"Mom, you're hugging a bit tight."

"I am so sorry honey, go back to sleep."

Renesme squirmed to look at her mothers dark eyes.

"I can't sleep, I'm too scared."

"It's ok baby. Just relax."

"Where's Daddy, and Uncle Jake?"

"I don't know baby, I just don't know."

The hours passed like days until, just as the sun began to shine through the tiny barbed window of their cell, the keys jangled and there was suddenly a stream of continuous light.

"Ah, you're all awake I see. We have a _special_ surprise for you all! Follow me. Now!"

The sadistic which in the doorway wheeled around, her wand held high in the air.

The three slowly stood and shuffled into the light, their fear etched over their perfect faces.

They were lead down a long and twisting corridor, large oil canvas paintings of the Volturi starring at them through thick red eyes. Bella saw the familiar faces of Jane, Marcus, Demetri, Caius. In every painting stood Aro, his eyes the darkest and oldest of all. They entered through great oaken doors into a room drenched in the stench on blood. Human blood.

"Oh good! You are here! You are wanted. On the phone."

It was the dark haired vampire, the one with the tall wizard with platinum hair, who spoke to them.

"We took the liberty of phoning your family. Tell them you are fine, and tell them you have made some new _friends_ here. Then hang up."

She was swiftly beside them, a small portable phone in her hands.

"Hello? Esme? Bella? Are you there? Are you alright? Hello?"

Carlisle's voice was rich and clear over the phone. With trembling hands Esme took the receiver, her body aching to see her loved husband.

"Carlisle my love, we are here. We are fine..."

She looked at the female vampire, whose feline eyes were watching her every move with deliberate acuteness.

"Yes, yes we are with the...."

From deep within her, something stirred and, standing to attention, she felt the rhythm of a dead heart stir. She looked at Bella, at Renesmee, and smiled at them. So warm was her smile that Bella knew what she was going to do, and felt her eyes screaming for the old human tears. She felt beside her the ripples running through Nessie, who hid deeper in her side. The child knew what was going to happen.

Suddenly Esme was speaking so swiftly that Elizabeta had no time to snatch before the words were out.

"We have been kidnapped! We are not with the Volturi. I love you so much, all of you. Find Bella and Nessie, save them. I love you"

Elizabeta snatched the phone away and threw it against the wall, her rage shaking the houses ancient foundations. She starred into Esme's wild eyes, her own ablaze.

"KILL HER!" She spat, and whirled out of the room, dragging Bella and Renesmee by the hair behind her. The oak doors closed and behind them came the blistering scream of a woman being torn to pieces.

Throwing them into their cell, Elizabeta snarled;

"If you were not so important to this stinking plan I would have... YOU BOTH will die at my hand, I promise you that! Just like her! You will be pulled to pieces and burned!"

The door slammed shut and Bella was left, holding a hysterical Renesmee so close that her tears burned her skin, her soft warmth, her smell, her hair flying wildly. Thrashing against her, Renesmee cried and cried. Bella sat, frozen as marble, listening to the sound of beauty being torn apart by the beast.


	12. Incompetence and Folly

Elizabeta watched the swirling motion of the decanter in her long, cold fingers. She swished the crimson liquid from side to side, watching it lap up against the crystal edges. Her eyes focussed on the man beyond the decanter, his face flushed but smiling, eyes glowing with pride at some great achievement. 'Ingrates' she thought and placed the blood red wine down on the table. 'When this is over I shall have fun killing these so called wizards with their own magic'. She starred into the eyes of the pleased wizard, her cold hard eyes black and dangerous. The smile dropped from his face as he came to a stop before her and stood at full height.

"The task has been completed madam."

The smugness in his voice made Elizabeta want to throw up blood, ridiculous mortals.

"Did you _dispose_ of the body?"

"Yes, Ma'am"

"Where did you burn it?"

The man suddenly fell into a shrug, his brows knitting in the middle. 'Oh no, he hasn't gone and…'

"Well Ma'am, er…we didn't know that we had to…um…we just thought that…"

Elizabeta flew at him, her sharp claws screeching across his thin skinned face.

"YOU IDIOT!"

"Please, Ma'am, we didn't know that we had to burn it we just thought that…"

Elizabeta let out a maniacal laugh and leant over the now cowering wizard before her.

"YOU THOUGHT? YOU CAN'T THINK! CLEARLY I AM DEALING WITH COMPLETE AND UTTER INCOMPETANT PIGS! ONE THING I SPECIFICALLY SAID WAS RID ME OF THE BODY. GET RID OF IT! THAT MEANS BURN IT. FOR THE LOVE OF…WHAT DO THEY TEACH YOU…WHY, YOU'RE WIZARDS FOR…AH!!!"

"We did as we were ordered by Lord Malfoy Ma'am, and he said nothing at all about…ah!"

Across the other cheek her razor sharp nails ground into fickle human flesh. The man was now on hands and knees before her, the smugness drained from his body.

"THEN LORD MALFOY IS THE BIGGEST PILLOCK OF THE LOT OF YOU! WHEN I SAID I WANTED A BARBACUE AND YOU ALL LAUGHED I THOUGHT YOU ALL PERFECTLY UNDERSTOOD THE REFERENCE. I DIDN'T REALISE YOU WERE ALL JUST BLIND, RIDICULOUS SHEEP! I CANNOT BELIEVE I HAVE ALIGNED MYSELF AND MY ARMY TO SUCH INCOMPETANT, STUPID…"

From behind her, Elizabeta heard the infuriatingly slinky voice of Lucius, his greasy smugness never faltering.

"Beauce, my dear Elizabeta, _we_ need each other, do we not. If our _incompetence_ displeases you then we must rectify our mistakes. You…"

Malfoy pointed his long black cane at the poor wriggling wretch on the floor at Elizabeta's feet.

"…You, I told you to burn the remains, did I not?"

The man opened and closed his mouth, like a fish under water. He began to shake his head, but before he could complete the full head swing, Lucius had drawn his wand from its sheath. The man's head quickly cracked into a nod, but it was all too late.

"Avada Kadavra!"

The man slumped to the ground his blood still tickling onto the carpet beneath him, staining the strands of hair covering his now perfectly still face.

"Clean this up!" Malfoy commanded, turning to a guard behind him.

"That is why I aligned with you, Lucius."

Elizabeta purred and encircled him, her marble hand stroking his cheek and running fingers seductively through his hair.

"You are so…ruthless…I am sorry for what I said, we have to find the body and burn it. Quickly. Before it has chance to repair itself."

Lucius looked at Elizabeta, lust and longing framing his angular face.

Elizabeta leaned upwards and Lucius could not resist brushing his warm, human lips against her cold hard vampire mouth. She leaned further in to the kiss, her teeth carefully pressing against Lucius'. She kept her eyes open, a small grin curling the sides of her occupied mouth. Lucius was fully steeped in the kiss, concentrating on his craft. She had to admit. In nearly 200 years, he was definitely in her top ten kisses, alive or reborn. His long blonde hair curled around his face as he took hers in both hands, leaning into the contours of her body and forcing her closer. She liked to feel a mans force against her, even if an ancient desire to take control and bend him into the right shape for biting ruled her deepest thoughts. She watched his moves intently, enjoying the kiss for as long as possible. The real games were about to begin. Before she drained him dry she would have to kiss him again, it would be a waste of a very good talent. She could taste the sickly sweet Narcissa, an almost faded flavour it seemed, clinging to Lucius' mouth. She would scrub it out soon enough. She had already made him fall in love with her. Now all she needed was to remove his current wife from the picture. The son was not a problem, so wrapped up in his little morals that he would never enter his father and mother's life again. There would be no resistance from him. So, for now, she would just enjoy the taste of this human mouth, the rest would come along later.

Lucius ran his fingers along the curves and sweeps of Elizabeta's waist, feeling the perfection beneath his fingers and yearning for it against his bare flesh. The icy maiden shifted on her feet and pushed hard against him, he could feel her searching for something between them. When she found it, the flat line between torso and inner thigh, she rubbed her cold hands against it. The power and strength behind her movements thrilled Lucius. 'To think, one day I will be that strong, that powerful.'

Lucius leant into her hand and she shuddered at the intimacy that had been forced. He held her close to him, her firm chiselled body pressing longingly against his. As he pulled away from the kiss, he fluttered his eyes open. Her face was even sexier with the eyes as dark as they were, the black eyes searching his face hungrily. Time to move away. He pulled himself upright, mentally smiling at the many sins that can be hidden by a well tailored robe. He fixed the vampire with a steely stare.

"Shouldn't you go hunting?" he whispered, smoothly.

The corners of her mouth drew back over her perfectly white teeth, her tongue running across her bottom lip.

"Yesss"

She hissed like a kettle, her movements becoming almost feline as she moved her head slowly from side to side. Her black eyes were fixed on Lucius, and for the briefest of moments he felt a sharp prang of fear.

"Go hunting." This time his voice was more forced, more controlled. His head was screaming for him to run, but he knew full well that to run from a mythical creature only meant that you had become the prey. Lucius Malfoy was no creatures prey. He had been too long in the Dark Lord's shadow to know become catnip to this vampire.

"I shall be back by daaaawn." Elizabeta purred and within a flash she was gone.

Lucius grinned, all women were the same, give them a taste of what they really wanted and then let it linger on their tongues, like a sweet lozenge, melting slowly until they come running back for more. This Lucius had learnt during his years at Hogwarts, this is what he had tried to install in his son…

His son…

Lucius felt the bile rise in his throat at the thought of Draco, of what he was doing with that Potter brat. He snarled and swished like a crow from the room, heading away from the thought as fast as his legs could carry him.

Narcissa had been weak, that was the boys problem. If she had listened to Lucius from the start, instilled a sense of Malfoy pride, even a drop of Malfoy arrogance, the boy would be straight as an arrow. He would have married that stupid excuse for a witch, Pansy whatever her name was again, and he would have carried on the noble blood line of the ancient Malfoy family. Instead he chose to cast his family down into the depths of hell. Lucius sniffed, moving his face sharply, trying to shake away the images of his son as a boy. The day they put him on the Hogwarts Express. The day he graduated with full honours… or, as Lucius put it, the day he nailed the coffin shut on his family. Lucius strode into his private quarters and locked the door, leaving any thoughts of his son outside, like wolves baying for his blood.

Of all things in Lucius' life that were true, the most important and crucial was the simple fact that Lucius Malfoy _had no son_.


	13. Tale of the Dragon

Author Note:

Longest chapter so far coming up, hope y'all like it, it's a bit sporadic but I hope it makes sense, if it doesn't feel free to point out problems and I'll do a rewrite, ok.

***

Narcissa had taken the oversized seat in the library, the windows light shining through onto her pale skin. She had aged so much since Harry had last seen her. There were dark bags beneath her swollen red eyes and her face was pale and peaked, creases and frown lines etching their way through her paper-thin skin. He wanted to comfort her, to put a friendly arm around her and tell her everything was going to be all right. But deep down he had no clue as to whether everything _was_ all right, so such comfort would be a very hard lie to make. He kept his eyes on the two new vampires, Alice and Edward, watching their every move with caution. He may, for a reason he could not fathom, trust Carlisle, but the other two seemed to be more frantic about their situation. Alice seemed to be beaming, her words light as feathers dancing in the breeze. Edward, on the other hand, seemed grave and war-worn, his deep golden eyes hard set in his sculptured brow.

"So you say that they have Bella, Esme and my baby in a house somewhere, but you can't tell me where, you can't tell me why and you can't tell me how you knew where we were?"

Edward was starring at Narcissa, who squirmed under the cold gaze.

"We're not trying to interrogate you, Mrs Malfoy; we just want to know what you know." Harry quickly added, relating to the feeling of being in front of a firing squad.

"I…I…" Narcissa looked from stony face to stony face with hints of fear. Carlisle, watching her grow more and more tense and hearing her increasing heartbeat, stepped in front of Edward's hard eye line, blocking his fixed gaze.

"I believe you, Mrs Malfoy. It is all right, but we need to know everything. Is there anything more you are forgetting, anything you may have left out?"

Carlisle's soothing voice seemed to work, ceasing her squirming and relaxing her hunched shoulders. She really was looking older. Her hair, which once had been strong platinum, was now dank looking and greyish. Harry could not help but feel sorry for her. She had been the only person to look away as Draco and Harry continued their affairs. She had made it clear that, though it was not a good thing, she would easily shut her eyes to it and pretend that it was not happening, something he knew Draco would forever be grateful to her for.

"I can't tell you any more than what I have already said. They are planning on taking down the new established orders, and the old ones. The female, Elizabeta, is planning a full scale war against the main vampires. The…Voturri I think she called them…"

Alice looked from Carlisle to Edward, her mouth opening, but Carlisle threw a quick glance at her and her mouth closed, her eyes now on Harry for the first time.

She cocked her head to the side, like a bird, and looked him up and down. Then, with very quick and precise movements, looked to Edward and darted from the room.

"She needed to go and get something", Edward told the room, "She'll be back shortly. But back tot the matter at hand…"

Narcissa rolled her shoulders and sat up straight, hands placed in her lap, like she was at school or in the presence of lower company.

"I have said all I know, or at least as much as I can remember. There are a few things _I_ need to be filled in upon, because for some reason I cannot process them fully. First of all, how did that house elf hear when I called for Dobby?"

Harry's mouth fell open.

"You called for Dobby? Why?"

"Although he is no longer a servant in my household, Potter, he cans till here the call of old masters. If he chooses, he may answer them. If he does not wish too then he is fully within his rights not to. A connection between house elves and their old masters is a strong bond, that cannot simply be severed by a sock."

She looked into Harry's eyes then, the old distain curling the corners of her lips firmly downwards.

"You didn't, did you Harry?"

Edward looked at him and Harry shuffled from side to side. Edward read minds, of course he would be able to tell what Narcissa was thinking, and whatever it was definitely made Edward very amused, because his face had vanquished the darkness which had crossed it for a moment, his eyes filled with a mirth similar to Alice. Thank god Carlisle had told him about his children's _gifts_, otherwise he would be utterly confused. Edward laughed and then returned to the task, the realisation of the situations gravitas enveloping him once more.

"That doesn't answer my question, however, Potter, how did that other house elf hear Dobby's commands?"

"Dobby was very close to Winky. I think they may have even loved each other in the end; I'm not too sure how that sort of love works between house elves, for that you would have to ask Hermione. But my theory is that by creating this strong bond they also take on each others shifts, if you will. They take each others work loads, their lives almost. And when Dobby died, Winky threw herself into Dobby's work, which would include any work related to his previous family. You, Mrs Malfoy, were the last family Dobby worked for. I can only assume that when he connected to you, he became solely yours. This meant he would always be at your disposal. With Winky connecting to him, she took that call too. Now she works at Hogwarts, as did Dobby, for a wage, as did Dobby, and she is forever connected, in part, to you, as was Dobby."

"Well, look who found some brain power on his travels."

Narcissa could not help herself, the words slipped out before she had time to catch them. There was something so warm and caring about Harry Potter that even if you did not wish to you wanted to mother him, laugh with him, share his thoughts and theories, and answer his questions. She had missed so much, too much, with her own son. But when Harry entered her son's life, as a permanent feature almost, she could not help but soften, even so slightly, towards him. And he seemed to relish motherly banter. She sighed, and then realised that Edward was once again starring at her, but this time with a look that resembled, but was not exactly, pity. She snapped herself out of her train of thought, sitting once again stiff as a board.

Harry simply laughed and nodded.

"My second question is what are you doing here, in this mansion, surrounded by _vampires_, weren't you supposed to be meeting…someone a few days ago?"

Harry had forgotten all about his meeting with Draco, and he had hoped that Draco would not mention it to Narcissa who, in turn, would tell Lucius. All he needed was an angry Lucius Malfoy bursting through his door at three in the morning to warn him away from his son. Again.

"That , funnily enough, is something we still haven't worked out."

Harry told the story, from the chance sighting of each other at the airport (to which Carlisle had been totally oblivious to, both not realising that they had acknowledged each others presence), to the present moment.

"Well Harry, if you were I, I would not be asking why I was being stalked by a vampire, but what was making it stalk me."

Narcissa now seemed to be in deep concentration and the room around her fell deadly still, the vampires now standing like statues, with the occasional twitch from Edward in Carlisle's direction.

"I have a theory," Alice lightly re-entered the room, a glass of water in one hand and a book in the other.

All looked at Alice, but just as she passed the glass to Narcissa, who took it between her hand and eyed it with caution, Carlisle's phone rang loudly in his pocket.

The ring was persistent and all turned to look as Carlisle tried to ignore it.

"Answer it then, don't you know it is rude to ignore a phone call?"

Narcissa's lips curled into a wry smile as Carlisle took the phone and opened it in one fluid motion.

Suddenly the air changed, the mood switched as Carlisle's face became first hard and pinched, voice on the other end of the phone searching for him, but he not answering. He seemed like a man on fire, and as Edward and Alice listened to what was going on, they two stiffened and look intently at Carlisle.

"Esme?" Carlisle choked out finally, his whole posture totally absorbed in the moment. The voice on the phone was clear and decisive, and Narcissa once again began to nervously shuffle.

"Esme? No listen, I love you, with every second of every day, Esme, stay with me, Esme, where are you? Esme, Esme?"

Carlisle held the phone in front of him, dumbstruck. Within seconds he had let it fall to the floor, his body crumbling in some great weight.

"Did you hear the voice? Before Esme's? Edward, do you recognise it?"

Carlisle held his head in his hands on the floor, his spine seemed to have turned to jelly.

"It can't have been her, she was with the Volturi, why would she break away from the longest standing family of our kind?"

"There is a lot of history between why she joined and what she is, Edward. I better explain…"

Carlisle, his head resting between his hands, looked like a man condemned. Harry wanted to reach out and touch him, to tell him everything was going to be all right. Carlisle began his story, never looking up from his spot on the floor by his feet.

***

"In the beginning, before the Volturi, the original vampire, Draqul, was head of the Romanian clan of vampires. He fell in love with a human woman, Elizabeta. She did not know who he was, and was married to another human man, Jokannan. When Draqul began his courtship, he trapped Jokanaan with three of his vampire mates and they drank of his blood, keeping him weak and unable to find Draqul. Once Draqul had found Elizabeta, she was sitting in her small house in a far off village, wailing for her lover who had been taken by Furies. Draqul comforted her, made her fall in love with him, and both, love crazed and foolish, agreed to bond forever in the ties that bind vampires to the earth. Meanwhile Jokannan had escaped the Furies by their own negligence, fighting over who would eventually drain him dry. He escaped to a local convent and the nun's rushed to the village. There they found Elizabeta, writhing in pain with Draqul over her. Before he had consumed her, Draqul and Elizabeta had consummated their love, as it was in human form he truly lusted after her. She became with child…"

Carlisle glanced at Edward then, and Edward saw the deep sadness in his father's eyes, understanding what Carlisle meant. Harry watched the unspoken discourse with curiosity. Carlisle's eyes glanced at Harry, like he had suddenly found the answer to all their problems, then he took his spot back on the floor near his feet. Harry saw the look that fell in his face as he continued his tale. Something inside Harry squirmed, that look was disgust.

"…Elizabeta grew so fast her body could not control the child inside. Finally the child burst from her, leaving her dead before Draqul's feet. It is believed that for the first and last time, a vampire cried that day, long scarlet tears of blood fell from his cheeks. The village was in uproar, but of course they could not fight the vampire, he was too strong. All decided, for the sake of the village, the child had to be destroyed. Of course, Draqul heard all of their discourse and, taking the child in his arms, he escaped as fast as he could and raised the child, naming her Elizabeta after her poor mother, the most loved of all his mates."

Carlisle stopped again, letting the images sink into everyone's mind. Harry coughed and all turned to look at him. His eyes had filled with silent tears that fell delicately down his cheeks. Carlisle starred in wonder at the man's behaviour, who was he pitying?

"Muggles, and Wizards really, have a story similar to that. It's called Dracula. But normally the vampire is destroyed by people or he disappears into the night. He flies, takes on the shapes of animals. Things like that. I've always had a theory, from what they taught me at Hogwarts, that perhaps the story was based on one small incident mixed with so many other traditions and things and it grew from there. But I didn't know how close it was to…"

Harry wiped his eyes and breathed in deeply, his red puffy eyes causing Narcissa to stand and drape an uncomfortable arm across his shoulder. He was a grown man now, but for some reason he chose to wrap himself in the warm coming from Narcissa's long thin frame. She gently enveloped him in a hug that had been locked away for over twenty years, fighting back the tears she wanted to share with this poor boy in her arms.

"It is very likely that people told the story over generations and it became an epic fantasy. When Bram Stoker wrote the story, he obviously was writing for the people of the time, who still believed in God and the Devil, who didn't have television and things to comfort them so they chose the book. This book, in fact."

Carlisle rose from his spot on the floor and whistled through the library, finally locating a small tattered copy of Bram Stoker's Dracula from the shelves.

"I can't believe I didn't think of it before! How stupid of me!"

Edward looked at him in wonder, Alice nodded, on the same wavelength.

"It isn't just a silly story concocted to frighten! This probably would have helped during…"

"Carlisle, you think that, because you are head of your own coven, you would…?"

"Well yes, I know that my coven is different, but that doesn't mean…"

"Full sentences please, Harry and Narcissa look very confused!"

Alice smiled brightly at the two who had disentangled, but still Narcissa's mothering pressed against Harry's, which had began to slightly tremble.

"Harry, I may be drawn to you because you seem a compatible mate. For my coven. The head of a coven has many mates, look at Aro, although he doesn't call them all his mates he has a certain…affection…for every woman he changes. He selects them, they are chosen and heralded in the coven. Their opinions are counted compared to others that Caius or Marcus may change. They all fit into the grand puzzle which is the Volturi. Up until know, I have always had Esme at my side…."

Mentioning the name hitched in Carlisle's throat and he suddenly dropped to the ground once more. Realisation had finally hit him, and he had been flattened.

"Alice, try to see Esme, now Alice! Now!"

Alice nodded, confusion riddled her brow. The room fell deadly silent as Alice searched. Suddenly she sprang back and held herself against a bookcase.

"I saw a room, it was dark but there were people there, they were….they were…oh Carlisle…they were…"

Alice could not bring herself to say what she had seen and Edward, who saw the images as clearly as Alice, dropped beside Carlisle and whispered in his ear. Carlisle's eyes grew wide and his face, if possible, grew paler.

"No…" He whispered, over and over again.

The room fell so silent that the wind outside could be heard, beating the trees together. Foxes barking at the moon and scurrying though the garden were the only noises Harry could hear. Then suddenly, from his spot on the floor, Carlisle let out a scream, something Harry had never heard, and never wished to hear, from any living creature. It curdled the blood in his veins and he felt the room shake with the ferocity of the sound. It sounded like a man burning, a man in hell. Harry once again found himself close to Narcissa whose face now ran freely with tears. Her knowing eyes looked at Harry and whispered, so soflty.

"Esme is gone."


	14. Crosses

A.N

OMG! So sorry that I haven't written in so long for anyone following, I hope you all have found sufficient reading material whilst I have been mucking about not updating this story. I, hopefully, am going to cover a few things in the coming chapters, so hold on to your Stetson's folks; we're in for a bumpy ride!

Chapter ___

Wolves at the Door

Harry heard Edward's teeth grinding against his jaw, even though the heavy set oaken door to the study was closed. The sound made Harry think of iron crushing against iron, or a steel knife being sharpened on a cold shrop. The vampire's spoke so softly that even if his ear was pressed hard against the wood, he would not hear a single word that passed between them. Occasionally, there was a slightly raised voice, normally either Edward's or Alice's, but that was all that Harry could make out. Carlisle was clearly not speaking at all, or at least speaking very little. Shutting his eyes and leaning against the wall, Harry let himself slide to the comfortable floor, where he rested in nervous anticipation for the next round of questions, answers and explanations. It had been only an hour ago that Carlisle had howled like a wounded animal at the thought of losing Esme, a woman Harry new to be his life partner and mate; Esme was also foster mother of Edward, Alice and the other two vampires, Eamon and Rosemary, or something along those lines. As well as this, Edward had burst into hysterical babbling about his wife and child who, unbenounced to the Cullen clan, had been abducted by some homicidal vampire (one of many, it seemed) with a power wish. Holding his head against the wall outside the study, Harry allowed himself this brief moment to slip into a calm and dreamless sleep, his waiting for a Cullen appearance being pointless as they had all seemed to forgotten his existence anyway. He opened one eye suddenly, pulling himself away from his rest, as a thought jolted him awake. Why wasn't he running? Why was he sitting here, patiently waiting for the vampires to turn him into kibble? What was it keeping him here?

Harry ran through every moment with Carlisle, the animal cry screeching through his head like a banshee. There had been, since that conincidental meeting with Draco in the alley, an intense sense of belonging eminating from Carlisle that Harry could not break from. Feeling that pull, that forceful aching need to be with him, to be controlled by him and to control him all at once, that bursting passion deep within his soul, made Harry want to fly away and stay in his chosen seat on the floor all at once. What was going on in his head?

Then it slowly dawned on him, first as a whisper in the very back of his subconscious, then as a creeping vine through his thoughts, culminating in a frustrated and confused shout in the very front of his mind. He was in love with a vampire.

'How on earth can that be? Don't think nonsense! It's just your inquisitive nature! You want to feel something for this creature, nothing more', said a very small, and somewhat Hermione sounding, part of his brain. Then, to Harry's shock, a Ron sounding side of his mind awoke, and began to argue the opposing side. Harry shook his head in belief, trying to knock the ringing voices from his ears.

'Well mate, he isn't that bad looking really. And at least he isn't Draco who, yes, is on the good side but is also a weasly, slimy, two-timing hussy-bag. Maybe you fancy him and the strong connection between you both is destiny. Maybe it's fate?'

Harry felt his mouth drop open, he couldn't contemplate why the Ron sounding arguer was at all taking the emotional side of the argument, whereas the Hermione was fighting the logical side.

'BUT he is a VAMPIRE! Vegetarian or not, he is a head of a coven on the cusp of being classed as rebellious. He has been through all this with you! You're definitely just feeling some lusty feelings towards the unknown, that in no way constitutes love. It's all just in your head and loins, that is all there is to it. Just like we are in your head Harry'.

'Yeah, mate, it's time for you to wake up now, I think Edward wants a word with you…No, no, don't try and speak, you'll look daft in front of Malfoy's mum, alright mate'.

At that point Harry saw, swimming behind his slowly lightening eyelids, the two smiling faces of his friends, Ron's big and beaming proudly at him, whilst Hermione's smile was cautious and did not reach her big brown looked scared for Harry, and although he knew it had all been a strange dream, he knew that she was right… Or to be more precise he knew that side of his mind was right.

Chuckling to himself at his own ridiculous assumption that he, for a split second, thought he loved Carlisle, he rose from his nook on the floor and walked to the kitchen, where he saw a horrific sight.

*

Edward had moved like a shadow through the house, quickly darting from room to room, trying to think over what had to be done. Talking with Carlisle had been fruitless, and recapping what Alice had seen had only served to be more confusing. As the seconds ticked into minutes, he felt chunks of him being torn from his flesh and bones as he tried to plan their next move. Bella and Renesme were, to Alice's knowledge, at the second relatively safe. For a reason unfathomable to Edward, this Elizabeta wanted Renesme for something, and needed Bella to keep Nessie calm. Then a thought slowly dawned on Edward and he dashed down through the winding corridors of the Heights to seek out the glimmer of hope in the darkness. Silently he reached and slipped into the room in which Harry had chosen to sit and take respite. He saw the cherub-like face of the sleeping wizard and felt a judder of intrusiveness rattle inside him. Waving a hand in an empty gesture he swept the cobweb of guilt aside and began probing Harry's mind, listening for any information that he may use to piece together the puzzles that lay in the confines of the dark house. Hearing some of the thoughts he felt most private, he retreated, his eyes growing large and sad as he watched for a brief moment the boy asleep. Sweeping over the poor body, he noted every scratch, scar and flaw, every cut and scrape. From what he had learned from Carlisle, Harry had been through a great many hardships and had seen many terrifying things. No human should see their parents destruction, or see magic used to bend and twist and cause such horrendous pains. All of Harry's tell was yet to be told, and Edward knew that, when the time came, they all would be able to organise the strange connection between Carlisle and Harry.

Leaving Harry to his dreams, Edwards flitted from room to room, following the second scent of magic in the house. In the kitchen, Edward found what he was looking for. Narcissa stood with her back to the door, starring out the large windows onto the strange mixture of Richmond Park's beauty and the distant movement and vibrancy of the metallic London City. Without a word or a sound, Edward slipped calmly into Narcissa's thoughts and there he found what he was looking for. He saw the terrible thoughts in Narcissa's head, and a rage fell upon him like a crashing wave against the steady cliff. Within a moment, he was upon her, holding her by the throat against the wall. He heard behind him the others who, on hearing the noise of crashing pots and other paraphernalia Narcissa had knocked to the floor in her struggle to free herself from the vice-like grip, had dashed to the kitchen to pry Edward from the almost purple woman's neck. Edward, realising his hasty attack, dropped Narcissa roughly on the kitchen's marble floor, where she floundered for a time, gasping for breath.

"You should keep you _son_ on an iron leash, Carlisle", Narcissa gasped and, when breath was fully regained, she sat sprawled on the floor, looking both terrified and infuriated at such a slight as being nearly choked by a filthy blood sucking creature.

Edward seemed to struggle against himself, pulling himself back from another attack on Narcissa. Narcissa pulled herself to her tallest heights and pulled her wand from her cloak she screamed shrilly 'Crucio!'. The spell bounced off of Edward's chest and ricocheted around the kitchen, to alls surprise.

"Narcissa! Edward! Enough!"

Carlisle stood in the kitchen doorway, his whole body looking thin and frail in the bright yellow lights of the lamps. He seemed to be almost hollow, his eyes solemn and his voice cracking feebly. Narcissa dropped her wand and starred at him indignantly, whilst Edward silently fled from the room in his rage.

"Squabbling won't help anybody. We need to find out where they are. Narcissa can you remember anything about the location of that place? Anything at all?"

Narcissa thought for a moment, her cold expression reminding Harry so much of Draco that a knot formed in his stomach at the memory of hugging her.

"I don't remember much, and even if I did, what would it do for me to give all the information I have at once and receive nothing in return?"

Oh yes, she was a Malfoy to the core, Harry saw it all. From the haughty upturn of the nose to the calculating tone of the voice, Harry saw why she had fit so well in the family, moving gracefully from Black to Malfoy.

"What is it that you want, Narcissa?" Alice, who had been quiet throughout most of the evening, looked at Narcissa's determined face and cocked her head to one side, like an inquisitive cat eyeing up the fish bowl.

"What all mother's want. Protect my son!"

Harry had heard this all before, and it had cost a great man a great deal to keep his word. He watched Narcissa, as did everyone else, and felt inside him a pang of disappointment. It wasn't her son that would need protection if Lucius found out what she had done. Then a thought sprung into his head, a thought which had not occurred before. What _would_ Lucius think?

Edward, reading Harry's mind, entered the room and, nodding both to Harry and Carlisle, advanced towards Narcissa.

Within a heartbeat, Alice was floating between them as some kind of referee.

"What about your husband? He'll kill you for this betrayal and you know it. He doesn't want you anymore."

Edward's words were harsh and cold, but meticulously planned.

"What is a life without ones family?"

Narcissa looked at Harry and, without missing a beat, Harry saw the cracks in this strong woman's bravado. Her eyes seemed to be red and fearfully close to tears. She knew exactly what she was doing. She may be a Malfoy, but what is a name to a woman with a baby.

"I want Draco to be safe, from what is coming and what is to come. I have no real information of use, but what I do know I will share with you now. If we could all please go into the study and take a seat, aside from Edward, who probably knows what I'm thinking."

Edward nodded but joined the group in their march to the study, taking a seat on the arm of Carlisle's chair.

"Lucius was released from Azkaban on the assurance that he was under some form of trance. All that the Dark Lord had done to our family seemed to comply to this reasoning. But it was not the case, far from it. We were the laughing stock of the Death Eater's, and we had lost all of our power and influence. We, the Malfoy's, had become the butt of every joke, and that made us useless to the Dark Lord. We were weak, until our son, Draco, decided to join forces with Dumbledore's Army, for reasons, we later discovered, not wholly without merit…"

Narcissa broke in her speech, surveying the room and dramatically removing hair from her face. Harry glowed brightly under the remark, and heard Edward snort casually at the thoughts that briefly ran through his mind.

"When Lucius returned he was…different…he seemed to want nothing to do with either Draco or myself. Draco dealt with it through his affair with Harry, but I stayed. I sat with Lucius each night and watched as he slowly pulled away from me. He never told me what was going on, but later I was to find out. Whilst in Azkaban, a wizard known a Krapinsky told him of a way that he could claim the seat of the Dark Lord, in exchange for something I know not what..."

At this Edward, who had been idly listening to the flow of speech, sat up and looked at Narcissa, who seemed to shift oddly in her chair and turn, if possible, even paler than before. He seemed to look on her with pity, and his cold, harsh lined face softened. What had he heard? Harry curiously watched the wordless exchange before Narcissa continued once more.

"There was news in the underground that a powerful vampire was trying to arrange a rebellion, but she was in need of help. This is when Lucius was, supposedly, to hear of Elizabeta, or at least that is how I was told. When Lucius joined Elizabeta's cause, the other ex-Death Eater's flooded to his side. Elizabeta wants the throne of the Volturi, and Lucius wants the Ministry under his rule. They both seek incomparable power, and they have…joined forces…to achieve it. I believe they need your daughter as a weapon or something. That is as far as I know".

A look of bewilderment crossed Edward's face, but Carlisle seemed to grab the answer immediately. Harry thought of a possibility but, on the realisation, he turned green with the idea.

"So, they are going to cross breed?"

Carlisle said it. Harry thought it. Edward feared it. And Narcissa nodded.


	15. Wolf At The Door

From the dark pile of steaming, rotting rubbish, the sound of cracking bones echoed through the gloomy fog of the thick sleeping night. The guards froze, fear flushing their cheeks, as the figure of a woman rose from the heap, the face fiery and wild against the relatively calm nights sky. Both wizards withdrew their wands and shouted pointless spells at the reformed corpse.

With a smile sweeter than the thickest honey, and a hand quicker than lightning, the beautiful woman flashed between the two, their spells useless against the perfectly formed, diamond hard body. With a final crack the head rolled back into place as she sped away, reaching a thicket some three miles from the house. Esme allowed herself to heal fully, slumping to the ground beneath the protective leaves. She knew she didn't have long before they came searching for her. Pulling herself up, she prepared for another, longer sprint. One thought consumed her, and one thought kept her from falling once more into the dark pit she had so recently occupied.

"I must get to Carlisle…I must get home…"

Esme, her hair dark and scraggy in places from her vicious ordeal, repeated her thoughts in a steady mantra as once again she broke into a steady, lightning quick run, the images of her loving family flashing through her mind like photographs on the wind.

*

"Got any threes?"

"Go Fish!"

"Leah, I know you have three's, just hand them over and we'll say no more about it!"

"What are you gonna do Seth? _Take_ them from me?"

"I will if I have to!"

"You'll have to catch me for them!"

Both brother and sister starred at each other for a split second before Seth, jumping on his feet, leapt gracefully into the air. Leah slipped sideways, leading to Seth tumbling to the ground. He huffed and returned to his seat mumbling 'If I were in wolf form I'd have pinned ya!'

"Will you two just stop!" Jacob snarled, his eyes sweeping the landscape across La Push.

"Why are we here anyway, Jake? If it's cool to ask?"

Embry who had remained in wolf form after his dawn patrol of their new perimeters, huffed at Seth's question in concurrence, then laid his head on his paws and fell asleep.

"Sam reckons he has something important to tell me and, as a friend, I agreed to his terms of meeting on his grounds. Be on your guard, though, I am not one hundred percent sure of his motives."

The alpha role suited Jacob, he had grown even bigger, if that was at all possible, his short black hair had grown thicker and longer once more, but rather than hanging around his shoulders, he wore it in a tightly knit braid (Leah's idea) down his back.

"Aww Boss, it makes you look like Pocahontas!" She had added after it was finished. Mockery aside, it suited him, and was practical when phasing as it simply came apart. His skin had tanned and rippled against his muscles, making him as impressive as a man as he was as an alpha male wolf.

A scent caught him and he turned to see Sam and the remaining Quilute pack emerging from the buildings on the Res, the strength they once possessed being almost a shadow of what it once was, before the wars.

"Sam? Why have you asked me here?"

Sam approached Jacob with his arms outspread, and Jake was pulled into a large bear hug that seemed to have a secondary agenda, maybe a subtle display of strengths. Jacob hugged back and heard a soft click as he accidentally knocked a bone from somewhere on Sam's body. Sam let out a laugh that boomed across La Push and Jacob smiled back, his body still on alert in case of a strange trap. Jacob knew that although Sam had accepted the break up of the pack, he never truly accepted his demotion from leader. He may not have loved the job, but something within him missed it, which is why he had kept his own pack of the remaining Quilute males, and had forced a boundary on Jacob's pack. The Res was neutral, but the other boundaries from the ancient treaty were still impressed upon Jacob's pack, they know subconsciously being marked as the "Blood Sucker Lover's". Sam began through his laughter at a playful joke made about Jacob's hair.

"We have some news from Charlie, you have been away from civilization so long, you and the pack, they thought you'd moved forwards to Canada or something."

Sam at these words swept his eyes over Jacob's pack, lingering sadly for a second on Leah, who locked eyes ferociously, then turned her face away in self-reproach. He instantly moved his eyes back to Jacob, who seemed unconvinced at his friendly exchange of recent news. He continued strongly,

"Charlie says that Renesmee and Bella have been with Esme for the past month and they apparently are somewhere in Romania, visiting friends. But he hasn't heard from them since. He mentioned that Carlisle had gone to England for a while and he was hoping to meet up with the girls there. But Charlie hasn't heard anything else."

Sam smiled again, this time it seemed to be falser, like he was holding something back. Jacob noticed and, after staring at him for a long while in silence, he nodded slowly.

"Is that all? We could have found that out by visiting Charlie, or I could have called in on Billy. Why have you called this meeting, Sam?"

"I was just…concerned…Jake, from regular calls, suddenly Charlie gets nothing from the girls for a month. Carlisle say anything to you before he left? Did he even leave you a message? I mean I don't want to pry in your business, but it sounds wrong to me, and I just thought you should go away with that bit of info. I mean I highly doubt the blonde bloodsucker and her mate will give you anything useful, so I felt…"

"You felt you needed to check up on me and my pack as soon as we got back. Thanks, Sam, but just because we haven't checked in at The Res lately, doesn't mean we have moved anywhere. Sorry to disappoint…"

"Jake, I'm not trying to…"

"Goodbye, Sam!"

Jacob turned from Sam firmly, the rage beginning to boil in the pit of his stomach. If am had wanted the low down on his pack, why didn't he just ask Billy, or call him on a land line or something. It had nothing to do with him anymore how his pack grew.

Jacob phased, quickly followed by Seth and then the remaining members of his pack. As they left La Push, he heard the other wolves phase too, and run off in the opposite direction.

_What was all that about?_

_I don't know Seth._

_Duh! Obviously Sam just wanted to check the pack out, see if we've grown. Right Jake?_

_Jake?_

Jacob remained silent; he had learnt to keep his thoughts independent of the pack as well as part of the group. What had Sam meant by bringing up the girls trip to Europe? He had appeared to be almost smug in his passing of almost redundant information. He huffed as continued to run through the forests until he smelt the familiar, putrid stink of the vamps house. He had to check this out with blondie, she'd put his mind at rest.


	16. Company of Wolf

"Hey! Hey! HEY!"

Jacob ran around the large white house, knocking at every door and window to get whoever was insides attention. As he reached the large French doors leading into the main seating place, he saw the blond vampire, Rosalie, cradled by her jock husband, Emmett.

"What are you vamps deaf as well as dead?" Jacob yelled, receiving a guffaw from Emmett and a V from Blondie. "Seriously, come out, it's important. It's about Carlisle and Esme! What's going on?"

At this Rosalie glided from her seat, opening the patio doors in a wink of an eye.

"What have you heard, mongrel? Has Carlisle got in touch with you?"

Rosalie's eyes flashed and Jacob could have sworn he saw distress, even worry. 'Wow, she does care about other people as well as herself, huh?'

Jacob shrugged through the doors, both engulfed by his massive frame. Hovering near the open casement to protect his senses, he continued.

"I just had Sam on my case, saying that Carlisle was supposed to see the girls, but they haven't met up yet. What's going on, Rosalie?"

"We don't know Jake; we haven't heard from them for a few weeks, we were starting to worry..."

By this time, Emmett had stood protectively next to Rosalie, and was nodding emphatically at everything she said. Jacob knew that if she wanted, Rosalie could fight her darnedest, she didn't need her husband's protection. But something about her appearance made him feel worried, too, like something was seriously going wrong and he had no control anymore over what was happening.

Rosalie, without a seconds notice, dashed from Emmett's side and within seconds was standing back against him; she was almost using Emmett as a support. Jacob looked down at Rosalie's hands and saw two full suitcases. He raised a dark eyebrow and frowned.

"Something is wrong, Jacob, we wouldn't just not hear from them. And now you're saying Sam was talking about them like that! I dunno, it doesn't feel right to me. Emmett..." She turned and starred up into his doughy eyes, "We're going, now!"

"Hey! You aren't taking off and leaving me here! I'm coming with you!" This, all knew, was not a simple request, it was an alpha command, and although Rosalie and Emmett were vampires, they still felt that heavy weight in the tone, and knew that Jacob was willing to fight for this. Rosalie fashed the quickest smile, not wanting to appear to warm to the mutt.

"Fine, Fido, if you're not gonna let go of this bone, you can tag along. You are good to fly, right? Or do you need a special pass?"

Jacob looked confused.

Turning to Emmett, Rosalie smirked wickedly, "Well I dunno if you need a special passport for dogs!"

"Hahaha, you are hilarious. How long did it take you to make that one up?" Jacob sighed and shook his head, these mutt jokes were getting worse by the day. He shot a scathing look at Emmett who had doubled over in laughter, amid gasps of 'Sorry, Bud, but that was funny right there!' and 'Ok, Ok I'm done! No more laughs I swear'.

"Can we go? Are you finished?"

Rosalie and Emmett snapped to attention and alertness, jokes were over, it was time to get to Carlisle.

*

The flight had been the greatest Jacob had ever experienced. Vamps knew how to swank it up when they needed to! Private jet with tinted windows to shield from the sun, personal assistance who seemed to be relaxed and care free. They clearly knew the two pale ones were vampires, but they had no idea about Jacob, who seemed to radiate more than the engines. They were kind and courteous, smiling and offering refreshment at every opportunity. Jacob smelled something strange on their skin, something very familiar and yet...well...not. He wondered if they could shape shift too. When they had returned to their cubby hole through a privacy hatch, Jacob leant closer to Emmett to ask about them. Jacob liked Emmett, he was strong and dependable especially in a fight; Emmett also seemed to have a great sense of humour, and liked the company of wolves. One day, when talking about nothing in particular, he had admitted to Leah and Seth his favourite movie was Balto, to which Leah had huffed and said "We aren't huskies! We're wolves!" and had stormed off in wolf form, whereas Seth had looked in disbelief at his new vampire friend and added "Sometime's Emmett, I wonder about your brain...I really do!" before bursting into peals of laughter.

"Emmett, what are they?" He indicated with his thumb, "They aren't human, and they aren't vampire, right?"

Emmett shifted in his chair awkwardly and added, in a whisper only meant to be audible to them both, though he knew Rosalie would hear.

"Weres!" A dramatic nod of the head and eye roll indicated that the subject would be closed, but Jacob needed to hear more.

"But blo--- Vamps and Weres don't get along, I thought they were mortal enemies!"

"They are, I mean we are, sort of, it's hard to explain..."

"What my husband is trying to say..." added Rosalie, "Is that most vampires and most werewolves don't get on, but some stumble onto our turf and rather than fight we allow them space to live in. Over time some come to trust us and, occasionally, work for us. Its gratitude, see, for us not tearing them to pieces"

Rosalie nodded matter-of-factly, as if it all made perfect sense and it was Jacob, dumb dog, who didn't get the picture.

" Ooookkkk" Jacob settled back into his seat. In his head he couldn't help but feel that he needed his pack here, why had he said for them to stay put. Leah had been most indignant, not wanting to be left behind. So, Jake had left Seth and her in charge, what a nightmare! He wouldn't have a pack left when he got back! He sighed again and remembered, if he brought his pack, he would have been stifled, making it harder for him to concentrate on Bella and Renesmee, because of his duty to his pack members. Closing his eyes he allowed himself a moment's sleep, before they touched down on British soil. Although his body slept, Jacob's mind ran through one hundred and one questions, each of which he could not properly answer. The most important question, though, the one that returned and returned was this: Were they safe?


	17. Introductions

Author's note:

I thought I better quickly say, for anyone who gets that far, that yep, the reference to werewolf/vamp manipulation is a reference to the Underworld movies, but I reckon it could work; we'll see where it goes. And I apologise, If Take That have conquered the States and I've played their popularity down through Jacob I do apologise, just drop a comment and I'll switch it up a bit in a re-edit Ok ducks, on with the show…

I.

The plane touched down at London Heathrow and it felt like an eternity to Jacob. The car trip from the airport to Carlisle's new "apartments", compared to the flights and checking out, flew past him with only the occasional fluffy remark from Rosalie, normally revolving around the fact that, if he so chose, he could pull down the window and stick his head out. To be honest, Jacob would have enjoyed leaning into the cool breeze outside, he hadn't expected it to be so sunny in London. The ominous clouds in the distance signalled major downfall, he had lived in the Peninsula long enough to know the signs of rain, and he could smell the damp of the clouds as he climbed into the giant blacked out Range Rover the Cullen's had rented before touch-down. Pulling into the gravelled driveway, Jacob let out a huff of disbelief, could this place be any more vampirish? The dark turrets and gothic windows shining dismally in the sun's mocking glint seemed to make the beautiful grounds around it darker, one could even say more sinister than he could imagine. In the distance, somewhere he could not pinpoint through lack of knowledge of the area, he could smell the wet snuffs of deer, and a strange, dog-like smell that he could not quite name. He would have to investigate the perimeter that night, just to give himself extra assurance of what was what in this new place. He could smell, from inside the house, a strong, unnatural smell. It was a sickly sweet aroma that he had never smelt before, something that was supernatural but not in a way he could call un-human. The smell hit him as he entered the mansion, its scent almost intoxicating his senses. He could smell human, but it was mingled with something that he could only put in to words by using...sparkly...how could a smell be described as sparkly? He shook his head and padded to the room that Rosalie and Emmett had entered. Dropping his bag he smelt the familiar Carlisle smell, rank as the vampire smell was in the house, Carlisle's scent always carried with it a promise of hope, of something deep beneath the stinking surface, some brief glimmer of humanity.  
"Jacob! It is so good to see you! I had hoped that you would accompany Rose and Emmett. We have much to discuss and the time is running out," Carlisle smiled warmly at the growing man before him, the warmth and smell of dog being something he had learnt to cope with, after all they were all repugnant in smell to each other so the mutual distaste in smell evened out the playing field.  
"It's good to see you, Carlisle, have you heard anything from the girls? Rose said something was seriously wrong. Have you heard about Renesmee? Is she alright?"  
Carlisle's face grew sombre, a look rarely seen on the cold one's face. It sent a shiver down Jacob's spine, and he flinched slightly at the ominous expression within Carlisle's eyes. Edward, who had previously been standing silently in the corner, half hidden by the massive chair behind the old fashioned desk, moved into the dim light of the room, revealing the old face of the burning man, a look that made Jacob instantly raise his awareness to the severity of the news he was to receive. Alice, standing near Edward, glanced from one man to the other and sighed.  
"I'll fill you in, Jake, are you hungry after your flight? We can go to the kitchen and talk, it's fully stocked! We have something that may really appeal to your taste, it's a British delicacy!"  
Jacob felt that he was being separated and, for the moment, he was willing to be led to the warm kitchen, Alice wittering about nothing in particular along the way. There was mention of a "Steak and Kidney Pudding" and it sounded borderline vile, but he smiled at the effort the vamps had put in on his account. Then he stopped, two feet away from the kitchen, and something within him growled. There was that odd smell again, the one that seemed to swamp the house, and with it there was a strange warbling noise. Jacob sniffed, it was a male voice singing a song he had recently heard on the plane, he had heard snap shots of the music, but it didn't really appeal to him, so he had pushed it to the back of his mind. It wasn't really his kind of music, all pop and no muscle. But this song wasn't too bad, and the male voice in the kitchen wasn't too bad either. He walked in and Alice was singing along quietly with the tall, well defined young man inside. Had the vamps rented a chef on his account? The guy seemed to know where everything was in the kitchen, and what he was doing with all the different ingredients. The few Jacob recognised, the ones that were pretty much universally recognised really, lay in separate bowls on the counter tops. Jacob watched the man grow ever filthier as he wrestled with a floured bowl. The flour splattered up against his face, and he and Alice laughed it off gleefully, like children making a cake. Jacob stood silently in the doorway. Alice would know he was there, but this _human_, for want of a better word, may not. Alice was pulled out of her two sided conversation with a start.

"Oh, right, my God, sorry! Harry, this is Jacob Black. Jacob Black, this is Harry James Potter."

The tall man raised a floured hand and extended it, a broad smile stretched across his warm face. Jacob studied the hand wearily, taking it roughly in his own and shaking firmly. He shook his head slightly, realising he was pushing the alpha status onto someone he didn't know from Adam. That sparkly smell clung to Harry like a thick fog, and Jacob had to resist the urge to gag at the sudden rush he felt of something a lot more powerful than himself sweep across his shoulders, down his back and round his body.

"What are you?"

"Ever the polite one, right Dog?"

Rosalie had emerged, Emmett remaining with his father and brothers in the library. She let out a laugh that made Jacob huff, annoyed that an instant scathing remark hadn't flown to his aid.

"He doesn't look like any dog I've ever seen…"

Harry smiled even wider, a feat that made his entire face seem as youthful and bright as a teenagers, and winked at Jacob in a way that Jake wasn't sure he felt totally comfortable with.

"To answer your question…" said Harry, returning to his food preparation and flicking his hand at a pot on the stove, making large thick bubble rise to the top in steamy bursts, "…I'm a wizard. And this…" he said, throwing a glance at the counter on which the sumptuous food sat in anticipation, "…this is something I whipped up for the only other eater in this house. Enjoy!" Harry and Alice both let out heartfelt laughter and Harry passed a plate piled high with vegetables, mashed potatoes and a steamed pudding over to Jacob, taking his own and beginning to devour the contents hungrily.

"Gravy?" Harry motioned to the bubbling pot on the stove, and Jacob, who had been starring with mistrust at the pie, lent over the saucepan and sniffed at the brown liquid, earning another biting laugh from Rosalie.

"That food looks wonderful Harry, it's a shame I can't eat any!"

Emmett had silently joined Rosalie and beamed at the pair who were now both equally enjoying their hot meal.

"Jacob, Carlisle said after you've eaten, if you wanted, he can come and give you the low down on what we know, which isn't much, but it will help if you're clued in to everything that happened so far."

Jacob nodded solemnly and, losing his appetite, he pushed the plate away, tipping his head to Harry and the others (minus, of course Rose). He left the room and followed the familiar scent of Carlisle back to the library.

Inside he saw a man whose gaunt face and sunken eyes showed truly without words all the terror that he had seen. Jacob shuddered, he had never seen Carlisle, head of the Cullen family, look so fragile. It hurt him to see such a good creature burning with sadness. Now he knew where Edward must have got it from, maybe it was a vampire thing – maybe vampires saw hell more times than Jake gave them credit for.

"In circumstances such as these, Jacob, I think it best if you sat down."

Edward was still in the room, his statuesque features burning as deeply as Carlisle's. Without moving he conveyed everything, the pain and fretful fear of a man lost, all that Carlisle, who was sitting at his desk with his head buried deep in his hands, was showing in such an unnaturally physical manner for a vampire. With Edward's words, Carlisle looked up into Jacob's eyes, sending a chill down the spine and forcing Jacob to a seat.

"I don't know what to tell you Jacob, so I will start with the night I met Harry and bring you up to speed. Then we will plan what we need to do."

II.

"There is a basic human strand, as you can see it is located here, intertwined within the werewolf DNA helix, do you see?"

There was a cough as the wizards in the dark shuffled with the intricate scientific diagram projected on the wall. The vampires, still as marble statues, watched gravely, nodding occasionally when the scientist pointed and commented on the intricacy of the extraction process.

"It is believed that, if removed, the werewolf could become a force beyond which it is supernaturally capable, the idea is delicate, and still in its infancy, but it would safe to assume that, given the test subjects we have, we will find the correct extraction and replacement procedure. It is all a matter of time…"

"Time, Professor Livkey, is what we do not have." A cold voice rose from the darkness, its hiss harking back to the memories of many of the Deatheaters. With all the power and influence he possessed, Lucius Malfoy was becoming a terrifying force to be reckoned with. Every Deatheater had believed that they would be following the will of the long deceased Lord Voldemort, but none had expected him to be replaced by a more brutal and calculating leader. Many did recall the ancient proverb 'Better the Devil you know…'

Professor Livkey shifted weight from foot to foot, pulling at his tie in gentle anxiousness; he had known that this was not what the assembly had wanted to hear.

"Sir, the process is, as I say, in it's infancy, and the test subjects are… reluctant to co-operate…"

"Then, Professor, I suggest you find a way to make them…"

"But…Sir…Mr Malfoy…Werewolves do not respond to magic as muggles do, it is because of their basic gene structure, which seems to send magic ricocheting off of it the body, in both human and wolf form! The vampires you have given us to test, they do not respond to any of the machinery, it is most unusual! But be assured sir, it will be mastered."

The tie around Liveky's neck tightened, as if an invisible force were pulling it closer and closer to his throat.

"Be sure, Professor Liveky, that it is done by the week, we are already in preparation for the mutation, and our plans to bring down the muggle cankered wizarding world will be ready to begin."

The tie loosened once more as the lights in the room were brought up, each wizard blinking lazily and some even trying to clap as Liveky gathered his wand and papers and swept quickly out of the room.

"Lucius, I am sure that he is only trying to…"

"He was trying to excuse his incompetence…"

"No, Lucius, I think…"

"You _think_ do you? You _think…_?"

"Well yes. I believe that they will find the answer for whatever it is you seek to do with those vile creatures, but you cannot rush scientific process. It was _your_ choice to use professional mudblood scientists. You cannot blame them for being slower in their work, using a mixture of magic and muggle is never a good mix, in my opinion."

"My darling Wife, I do not remember asking you your opinion in the first place, yet you freely give it. But allow me to explain it all in a way that you may, possibly, understand. It is imperative that the vampires and wolves are interwoven, for next week the time for take over will be at hand, and I cannot wait any longer. The key is within that human strand of DNA, or at least that is what I have been told…"

"But I do not understand why magic could not be used and be done with it?"

A few of the wizards, and even a few of the vampires, seemed to have honed into the conversation between Narcissa and Lucius, allowing a solitary figure to creep, invisible to those around it, into the hall and waver purposefully in the darkest areas, away from the lights and yet close enough to observe silently the proceedings.

"Well Narcissa, I would not expect you to understand the intricate nature of this. Magic may only travel so far, and to adapt a spell to work on a Vampire or a Werewolf is virtually impossible, there is not yet a wizard strong enough, or inclined for that matter, to be brought to the cause of which we a re working towards."

"Sir, without sounding impudent…" a young looking Deatheater approached Lucius cautiously, bowing low and cowering with such ease that he could easily be mistaken for some form of simpering dog at his masters lap. "…why are we trying to intertwine Vampires and Werewolves, they are enemies from time immemorial, and aren't vampires….well…dead?"

"Imagine…what is your name?"

"Pattinson"

"Pattinson, eh, I know your brother, Robert…sent to Azkaban for treason? Yes, he was a good Deatheater, strong and dependable."

Lucius scanned the face of the wretch before him, and took what could only be described as pity on the creature, answering his question slowly and meaningfully, with the occasional stiff glance at Narcissa.

"Pattinson, imagine, if you will, a _living_ vampire. A vampire with the combined strength of the basest of the supernatural creatures, with the ability to change into a ravid killing machine, yet control it's mind. That is a soldier we would benefit from in our army. Elizabeta assures me that it can be done, it was once done to control the werewolf population during the dark ages, now it will be used to create a new species, an evolution of two of natures most ravenous killing machines. And imagine, Pattinson, being able to harness such awesome power, with the might of magic, and the brute force of such a beast!"

Pattinson coughed and edged around another question, this boy was trying Lucius' patience, but he allowed the smaller members of the Deatheaters their foibles, they would be useful pawns when the war fires were lit. Keeping the others sweet meant ease of transaction, establishing Lucius as top of the hierarchy. He tried to smile, but the expression seemed to twist his lips into an almost devilish grin.

"Well, sir…can't the werewolves just…you know…bite the vampires or vice versa?"

Lucius rolled his eyes, this kid was really stupid, definitely canon fodder material.

"When a werewolf is in full form, the last thing it should do is be in contact with a vampire. It is like having a cat and a dog in the same house. They cannot live harmoniously, they must war. And the aftermath of a fight is never a good place to be. But combining the two will create a creature that harmoniously exists between the three worlds, being human, vampire and werewolf. Does that answer your questions?"

Pattinson still seemed confused, but his confusion was unimportant. As he and the final dregs washed out of the meeting hall, he glanced once more at Narcissa and saw in her face the final straw. The look in Narcissa's eyes, that spark of shame, was angering him deep within. Narcissa was not a fool, she knew of his love for Elizabeta, and apart from the subtle attempts to show him up and attack him in public, her coldness and judgement of his wish to re-establish the will of the Dark Lord on the world seemed to be the force pushing her further from him. He hated her, for her looks of shame and pity, for her judging eyes constantly on his back. Most of all, he hated her defence of their son's wanderings, of his dissention, his perversities. He closed his mind, thoughts like this would be betrayed on his face, and he could not afford to be seen for what he truly was, not yet.

The hall had now completely emptied, save Lucius, Narcissa and a shadowy figure, a black cloaked, spectral presence undetected by the couple.

Lucius, looking about him, turned sharply towards Narcissa and snarled. Narcissa caught herself from flinching at the vicious movement, fighting with all her might to remain poised and centred. She would not back down from this.

"It is not your business to ask me, in front of the other followers, what you will _never _be able to understand, you stupid woman. I see what you are doing, trying to cause descent! Remember this, although you may know more than others, you have _no right_ to attempt to sabotage my reputation among these grotesque people. I do not answer to _you_ or anyone else for that matter, and your futile attempts to have me admit to the true nature of what is to become of… no I do not need to explain to you the necessity of the compliance of those useless beings out there. You way be my wife but, Gods help me Narcissa, one more attempt from you to instil."

"No! You have another to bow and scrape to, and take to your bed! That cold skinned whore…"

In a movement as quick as lightening, Lucius cut a crisp slap across the alabaster white cheek of Narcissa, the red blood running hot and fast to the affronted skin.

"You will _never _speak to me like that, do you understand?"

"Yes, Lucius",

Without another word, Lucius swept through the open door, leaving Narcissa, unknown to them both, alone with the invisible figure in the shadows. Within moments of his departure, Narcissa allowed herself to feel the sting of betrayal. Narcissa held firm, she would not cry although her eyes welled with the pain of the slap and of Lucius' words, but within her she felt the remnants of the love she had felt, the loyalty to her husband she had carried for all these years, through Azkaban, through inquisitions and interrogations, and through the loss of all her power and influence in the affairs of the wizarding world, fall to dust, and in her anger she felt another, darker presence growing, a fire building deep within her soul. The flames of rebellion. And, for Narcissa, it felt warm and good.


End file.
